Blood and Smokes
by melisandre013
Summary: There was a storm. Sanji had to dive into the water to save Luffy, ruining his last pack of cigarettes. As he goes through withdrawal, he ends up doing things he regrets later. Sanji, then, has to deal with the consequences. Warning: Yaoi
1. Part I: Blood and Smokes

The crew of the Thousand Sunny ran back and forth across the grass deck, following Nami's instructions

The crew of the Thousand Sunny ran back and forth across the grass deck, following Nami's instructions. Usopp and Chopper struggled to re-tie the rope that secured the mainsail to the deck. Nami had ordered the sails down when the wind picked up. The crew hurried at once to obey, but the storm had come upon them more quickly than they had thought possible. Several months on the Grand Line, and it continued to stun them. One moment the sea had been as placid as the Calm Belt; and then this maelstrom was thrust upon them.

Thousand Sunny was a much larger ship than the Going Merry, and reigning in all the sails was more difficult. There were more ropes than nakama, and while Luffy was able to stretch and catch several, the situation gradually worsened. To portside, a rope snapped. The line flailed in the wind. It twisted up towards where Nami stood. The navigator leapt to one side, struggling to continue giving orders to the rest of the crew, but unable to stand up as the line continued thrashing.

Sanji and Robin managed to secure the starboard half of the mainsail. Her Cien Fleur had reached up the mast to snatch at the cloth and tuck in into place. On deck Sanji finished his task, squinting through the rain to double check. He peered around, doing his best to analyze the situation. His vision was obscured by the haze, but through it he was able to hear Nami's cries to the crew. Sanji scrambled across the deck to find her.

"Nami-swan!" Sanji cried. She was crouched on the platform, still screeching orders. Her fist pounded against the Adam wood. Sanji watched her turn around to Franky.

"Hold it straight, goddammit!" Franky nodded silently. Sanji was sure that he didn't appreciate her directions. He knew how to handle his ship. But here and now, Nami was in charge. "Sanji. Tell Robin to help Usopp and Chopper. Then get Luffy off of the front sail."

The intensity in her gaze told him that now was no time to swoon and pamper her, but that she was the boss. Sanji tore through the rain, which was now more like sleet. He saw Robin, already helping the shooter and doctor. Unlike some crewmembers, she knew exactly what to do next. Especially the captain and first mate. The first was trying to help, but instead his stretched body across the front sail hampered his nakama. The first mate-.

Sanji glanced around. That green-haired idiot was nowhere to be found. He took another look around the deck. Nowhere. Nothing to indicate that Zoro was interested in the least at helping the others. For a moment, Sanji was tempted to find the bastard and beat the shit out of him, but Nami-swan had _kindly asked him_ to grab Luffy and tie up the sails.

"Oi, Luffy," Sanji yelled. He used his hand to shield his eyes from the pelting rain as he peered into the black sky, hoping for a glimpse of the captain. He heard a carefree laugh from above, and Sanji knew that Luffy was still clasping onto the sail. "Luffy! Nami says you have to get down. Stop being an idiot and get down here."

"Alright, Sanji." The elastic snapping sound Luffy's body made when returning to their proper position cut through the air. Sanji hustled over to the fastenings and began to pull in the sail. He expected Luffy to drop down next to him in a second, goofing off as usual. He didn't. Sanji looked around after tying off the rope. He knew the sail was down, but his captain was not.

Something fluttered in the wind before dropping suddenly to the deck. A straw hat with one red strip. Sanji's heart began to beat faster than it had in a long while. It had been several minutes since he'd heard Luffy's voice, and since then the wind had picked up considerably. Was it possible? Had Luffy fallen?

Perhaps it was his imagination, but to his left he heard a gurgle and cry for help. Caution to wind, Sanji kicked off his boots and leapt.

The water seemed solid on impact, and it was cold like metal. The rolling waves did nothing to soften the crash, and only disoriented Sanji. His head spun as he tried to break to the surface. When he did, his gaze shot across the surface for some sign of where Luffy had disappeared. There were none. Sanji took a deep breath, and dove. He searched the unending black for anything.

His chest ached, and Sanji had to resurface. Minutes had passed, perhaps ten. And still no idea where Luffy was. The longer Sanji waited there at the surface, the further Luffy fell down. Sanji dove again. Kicking with the same power he would in battle. His legs propelled him down. His unconscious brain told him the storm had calmed, because now he could see a little. But the thought hardly registered. He merely kicked.

Finally, something caught his eye. It was Luffy's red vest. The future pirate king's face was blank as he fluttered downward. Sanji kicked a few more times- his heart and lungs dying inside at the lack of oxygen. His fingers latched onto something, and Sanji changed his direction. The journey up was a battle against his body. He wouldn't let the lack of oxygen and blood flow inhibit him. Sanji coughed, and a bit of water flowed down his throat. His mouth quickly shut.

When his head broke through and he was able to breathe, Sanji noticed that the storm was gone. The sea had returned to how it was before. The lactic acid had built up in his muscles, and they screamed as he hauled Luffy's head above water. The Thousand Sunny loomed overhead with its passengers leering over each side. Sanji tried to cry out to them, but the seawater had burned his throat. Instead he waved his arms about. Chopper saw him, and after that Sanji paid no attention to what happened aboard. Rather he tilted Luffy's head back, closed his fingers over the captain's nostrils, and blew into his mouth.

Sanji continued until he was safely on deck. He hadn't noticed Robin's hundred hands lift him out of the water, nor the water drip off him as he lifted out of the ocean. Reviving Luffy was more important. When he felt the Thousand Sunny's grass deck, he looked around. Chopper's medical bag was next to him. Worry covered everyone's face. Usopp's lip trembled, Franky had his guitar out- surely ready to sing whatever tune would result from this incident, Robin cradled Nami, and Zoro's face actually showed an emotion other than confusion or blood thirst for once.

Chopper immediately took over. His ministrations were much more direct than simple mouth-to-mouth. Sanji assumed that Chopper would fix things, and he allowed his brain to shut off as he slipped away. _Stupid hammers, always falling of the damn ships._

--

Before he opened his eyes, he smelled the sterile scent of rubbing alcohol. It was almost overpowering in the infirmary. Sanji couldn't quite figure out why. He opened his eyes and looked around. The room was that blinding white that all hospital or infirmaries had to be. It seemed that Franky hadn't been very creative with this room, but Chopper loved it, and that was what really mattered.

He twisted his head to the side. He expected to see Luffy somewhere else, but his was the only bed filled. The sheets were rumpled on one, but nothing to suggest that somebody had been here long. It shouldn't surprise him, really. Luffy's stamina and recovery time dwarfed his and Zoro's.

"That fucker," Sanji whispered. If Zoro had been on deck, he probably wouldn't be lying here in bed. It was his job to watch Luffy. He'd been with him the longest, and if anyone could predict him, it would be Zoro. That marimo needed his head bashed in.

"Which fucker? There are several on the ship." It was the last voice Sanji had wanted to hear. He looked at the foot of the bed. The thickheaded slacker of a first mate stood, his arms crossed over his chest. _Bastard_.

"There's only one I'm referring to," Sanji muttered. _He's dumb, green, and a shitty swordsman as well_. Sanji didn't say that, though. It wouldn't have gotten him anywhere. If he were to yell at Zoro it would be about not helping out when the ship was in the middle of a goddamn killer storm. Sanji forced himself to sit up. "What time is it? And where were you earlier during the storm?"

"It's about two in the afternoon," Zoro said. He didn't appear inclined to answer the second question. He moved to the right of the bed and plopped into a chair. He set his booted feet on the bed near Sanji's arm and reclined. When he put his arms behind his head, Sanji could see the sweat stains under the armpit. Sanji nearly gagged. How someone could wear the same shirt day in and day out was a mystery to the cook. He turned away and fished in his pocket for his lighter. He pulled it out, then realized his cigarettes were in his jacket, which wasn't anywhere near him.

"Grab my cigs from my jacket, marimo-bastard." Zoro stood up and grabbed the pack without complaining. He tossed onto the bed.

"You're welcome."

"Fuck off," Sanji growled. Inside the cigarette carton, the tobacco had spilled out after the paper had shrunken due to the seawater. All ruined. Damn, that had been his last pack. He'd get more when they landed, he supposed. Nami had said it would be within two days, and Sanji supposed he'd spent the night here and that meant they'd arrive in port later today or tomorrow morning. He could last without a smoke til then. "When do we land?"

Zoro's expression showed that he was shocked that Sanji hadn't argued with him more. The blonde didn't feel like arguing when his addiction took precedence.

"We got turned around the way we came from. Nami says we have almost a week."

"A whole fucking week?" Sanji gasped. His fingers began to shake at the thought of withdrawal. The most he'd gone since he began was three days. At the end of those three days, he was doing almost anything to distract himself. A fucking week without any nicotine or distractions. Sanji might borrow Franky's cannon and shoot himself into the ocean. Maybe he could convince Chopper he was in pain and get some morphine.

"Yeah, I know. No chance to get any fresh booze," Zoro mumbled. Sanji thought about mentioning that what Zoro drank wasn't fresh at all. The swordsman could go and drink toilet water for all he cared.

_A week_.

--

Sanji was feeling the effects of withdrawal by the end of the first day. His fingers shook with tension as he cooked. He'd tried to decorate a cake for Nami-swan and Robin-chwan, but he hadn't been able to cut the strawberries evenly. He served it anyway, and if either noticed it wasn't mentioned. But the fact that he couldn't cut it nearly tore him apart. To save himself aggravation, he only made simple foods. Dishes that required little cutting or specific placement.

Nobody mentioned Sanji's increased frustration, his hunched shoulders, or the cut on his lip where Sanji had bitten in an effort to forget about smoking. Sanji did almost anything to distract himself. He began taking freezing showers, running laps around the ship, and he even asked Chopper if he had any painkillers. The doctor freaked out and demanded a full examination before prescribing any drugs. Sanji told him that his knee hurt, but upon inspection, Chopper told him that he couldn't have any.

Finally, Nami announced that the Thousand Sunny was making great speed, and should arrive late the next day. By now, Sanji had been going four and a half days without a smoke, and the thought of it so near made the wait almost more unbearable. Sanji went to bed tense. He hadn't slept in two days, and he was positive he wouldn't tonight. His body ached for something to distract him, and his mind screamed that it was only a matter of hours now. Both together were unbearable, and lying alone listening to them whine was the worst thing, it seemed.

--

Sanji crept out of the men's quarters; his bare feet much quieter than his notorious black shoes. He neared the bow, feet softly padding against the grass. He pulled his lighter out of his pocket and played with it as he leaned back against the Adam wood. Sanji hadn't bothered to change into nightclothes; he knew he'd be getting up again anyway and walking around until dawn as he had the past five nights.

He turned and headed back in the direction he came; maybe he'd take a cold shower. Or he could jump off into the ocean and let the current have its way with him. _Maybe hell would have some smokes_. Sanji stopped his mind right there. He couldn't believe he'd just had that thought. He was going to find All-Blue, and whatever he needed to do to get there-

"Umph," he mumbled as he fell unexpectedly. He hit the deck hard and remained sprawled there as his thoughts raced to discover why he now laid sprawled facedown. A large snore alerted him. That bastard, asleep on his watch. Sanji turned on his back and kicked out hard. He wasn't sure what he hit, but Zoro woke up immediately.

"What the hell?"

"You fell asleep on watch, and I nearly died tripping over you," Sanji kicked again. This time, he knew what he kicked because he felt Zoro's jaw crack. It was only his toes that caught him, though. Had it been his whole foot, Zoro's face would be a lot more crooked. The swordsman must have dodged at the last minute.

"Watch where you're going then." The clomp of Zoro's boots told him that he had stood up. In the middle of the night, the Grand Line sky was as deep and bottomless as its ocean, and Sanji could see nothing. The stomping had stopped, meaning that Zoro wasn't moving anywhere. Sanji had no idea where he was, but he had no intention of letting him go anywhere. This, this baiting and fighting they always had, was the perfect distraction.

"I wouldn't have to watch if your hair didn't blend in with the Thousand Sunny's grass," he snapped.

"That just means you aren't good at observing things. Even Luffy doesn't fall on his face, shit-cook." The gruff voice came from the left. Sanji kicked in that direction and was awarded an 'hmph' as Zoro tumbled to the ground. Sanji kicked again, only to have his foot grabbed. If the two men were standing, the cook would have been able to bring his other foot around to smack the other in head. But as it was, Sanji's movements were inhibited and his other leg would not turn like he wanted it to. Instead, Zoro's was able to snag his legs and hold them fast together. "Why are you here anyway, eyebrow-freak?"

"I was making sure you weren't about to crash the ship. Knowing you, you'd get us lost and we'd have to wait five more days for cigarettes," Sanji growled. The thought made his muscles tense, and prevented him from wriggling away as Zoro's grip on his legs tightened. He squirmed as the other man pinned his legs together. He could feel the man's head nearing his stomach, Zoro's whole body holding Sanji tightly. His legs were his weapons, and if they were immobilized, Sanji had very little left to assist him. His hands were more suited to cooking than punching.

Sanji did the only thing he could think of in this situation. He never used his hands in battle, and his legs were unusable now, so Sanji leaned over to where he thought the other man was, and he bit down. Sanji's teeth went into the flesh, which at once gave way. The metallic, bitter taste of blood filled Sanji's mouth. _Zoro's blood_. For some reason that thought meant more than it would have if he were tasting Nami's or Robin's. _Zoro's Blood_. It was as if he had a power over Zoro.

The pressure surrounding his legs disappeared, and Sanji opened his mouth to release Zoro. Rather than kicking upward, though, as Zoro moved back, Sanji lay on the deck tasting. His tongue circled his lips, catching the last tidbits. He wanted to taste more.

Sanji felt a hand on his side and he started. It wasn't a harsh touch, but it surprised him. However, Zoro's next move, a caress against Sanji's cheek, was more startling. He jerked away from the hand. Why was Zoro doing this? Why wasn't Sanji screaming as the other man's thumb trailed across his lips? Why did Sanji open his mouth to bite that finger?

His lips curled around the thumb and sucked. Sanji didn't know where the action came from, but it was almost instinct. It just happened. The thought never occurred that he should stop; rather he reached up into the mass of green hair and pulled tightly. The thumb left his mouth, but was quickly replaced by Zoro's lips. Sanji felt fingers winding in his blonde locks in a similar fashion to how his were gripping marimo moss.

The men opened their mouths, inviting the kiss further. Sanji thought that this was wrong, and they should stop, but he couldn't. The kiss intensified, bringing with it a whole new set of accompaniments. Somehow Zoro's blunt fingers were gracefully unbuttoning his jacket and dress shirt. Sanji was still trying to figure out how the hell Zoro's shirt came off; whether the sash was part of it or not; and whether he should let Zoro know what he was doing before he broke away from the kiss to lift it over his head.

Sanji didn't remember breaking away from the kiss- his lips must have been on something the whole time- but Zoro's shirt was eventually off. Sanji could feel the hard edges of Zoro's scars against his own soft chest skin. It wasn't at all like he thought he'd ever wanted. It wasn't like breasts pressed against him as he was ridden. Something about Zoro's rough scarred skin had a different allure.

_Breathe._ Sanji had to remember to breathe as Zoro nipped down his chest. The sharp teeth knew exactly where to bite, never questioning their path. His dress pants were tightening, cinching off the circulation. He knew was building beneath them. Moaning, Sanji glanced up into nothingness, wondering exactly what the hell was going on and praying it would never end.

His hands found Zoro's ears and used them to pull the swordsman. Sanji kissed the rough lips and shoved the other man onto his back. The cook clambered onto him. Zoro tried to shove him off, but after a harsh bite from Sanji, Zoro relaxed. It wasn't natural for the swordsman's mix of salty sweat and sea air to taste so damn good, but he couldn't stop biting him. He thought he heard Zoro mutter something about 'no signs,' but it didn't matter what the marimo-bastard said. This blood that spilled out of the ruthless bites was so much better than a smoke.

"If you're biting that hard…" Zoro grabbed Sanji's hair and tugged. The blonde snapped away from where he'd been tugging at skin as he was flipped onto his back. His heart seemed to stop abruptly when Zoro's teeth clamped onto the skin near his collarbone. Then it started again, but faster than before as Zoro sucked at the newly created wound. Sanji panted above him. His blood rushed through his body, and it all seemed to come pouring into Zoro's mouth. That was the only place he could feel anything; that and his pants growing ever tighter.

Zoro must have sensed it too. His mouth moved away from Sanji's collarbone and _down_. Down was good, and down was bad. Down meant that Zoro's mouth and lips would be _there_. That thought made Sanji's head fuzzy. The rush of blood to his lower half was finally catching up with him. Sanji just couldn't think, it was just a blur.

The weight from Zoro's body vanished. Seconds later two clunks signaled the loss of Zoro's boots. A soft gust and whoosh told Sanji that Zoro had dropped his pants and was now completely naked. Inside his stomach, something was boiling and churning. The feeling sank lower when he felt Zoro's weight against him again. The other man was also hard, and were they someplace else, Sanji was sure they'd be comparing sizes to see who was better there, too.

As Zoro kissed him, his hands scooted down Sanji's slender frame to fiddle with the belt. Sanji had no idea how the green-haired managed to whip the belt off that fast, but as Zoro moved his mouth from Sanji's lips to his earlobe, Sanji's pants and boxers were shimmying down his strong legs and off. Now they both were naked, and Sanji could feel himself touching Zoro, and it was the most incredible feeling. Everything he'd ever been told, said that what they were doing was so wrong, but it felt so _right_ when Zoro- now supporting himself on one elbow- moved his calloused hand to Sanji's member.

The rough skin shouldn't have been a good thing against the soft flesh, but Zoro's strong hand held him so gently that it didn't fit with the vicious tearing at his ear. The two extremes put Sanji someplace between pain and pleasure; how he felt when in the middle of battle. It made him nervous. The cook and the swordsman, nude on the middle of the Thousand Sunny's deck, was an image Sanji never would have had. _Surreal_.

Zoro's thumb gently stroked Sanji's head. The touch was so light. Sanji moaned for more. All he received was another soft brush. Again, the moaning accomplished naught. Zoro traced a finger from the base to the head, as though his finger were the sword and Zoro was practicing 'cutting nothing'. Sanji groaned. He wasn't nothing he was-

"Do something, goddamn marimo," he groaned. Even through the dark he could feel Zoro smirking. Then suddenly they were switching positions. Zoro dug his fingers into Sanji's hips and hauled him over. It took a moment for Sanji to figure out where exactly he was in relation to Zoro. Sanji sat atop Zoro's thighs, and the other was upright now. He wasn't exactly sure what was about to happen, and that made him slightly nervous.

Zoro pulled him close, kissed him. Then, he moved to Sanji's ear. Sanji thought he was going to bite, but instead he heard, "This might sting," just before pressing a finger into the soft flesh that was Sanji's anus. Sanji gasped. He had _not_ been expecting that. He- well he didn't know exactly what he had been expecting but-

The finger began to move. _Inside of him_. Then there was another. And another. It was as if they were warming him up for something…

"No," Sanji managed to say. "This can't go there." Sanji squirmed. The fingers had found something, a spot where it didn't hurt.

"Che," Zoro whispered. His lips smacked against Sanji's suddenly. Zoro's hand's settled on Sanji's buttocks and lifted him up and onto Zoro's penis.

As he slid over Zoro, Sanji's eyes filled with tears. Whenever this was over, he was going kill the marimo. He should have right then, but then Zoro started moving his hips up and down, hitting the same place his fingers had touched a minute before. At the same time, his hand grasped Sanji, pulling and teasing him forward in a similar rhythm to his thrusts. Sanji felt his own hips rolling of their own accord.

He felt the pain, yes, but in there was the pleasure. With each thrust, a part of Sanji melted into Zoro. Each pull on his dick sent Sanji's hips forward and then down again onto Zoro, who would thrust up. Without either man realizing it, the pace began to pick up. Sanji gasped into Zoro's mouth. Neither had the attention span to kiss, it was just a continued closeness of their faces. Sanji remembered groaning as Zoro's hips pushed himself deeper, almost all the way. He hadn't know anything could be pushed inside that far.

Suddenly, everything became a blur. The heat in both of them rose to boiling point, steam forming and bursting through the pipe. Both of them were breathing heavily, and Sanji tried to form words and say something- what wasn't important- but his throat and mouth was dry like island sand. All that came out was a hoarse, animal-like noise. A mimic of his echoed from Zoro's throat as the two pirates climaxed together; Zoro's remaining inside Sanji and Sanji's spraying across the two men's bodies.

Sanji was more relaxed than he had been in weeks, months. He didn't know. It didn't matter. He stretched out on the grass, and felt Zoro lay next to him. Sanji reached out, searching for the other man's face. After some fumbling, he found Zoro's scraggly hair, gripped it, and pulled the bastard toward him. He came willingly, too sanguine to complain about anything. Sanji kissed him again, gently.

He was sore, exhausted, completely naked on the deck of Thousand Sunny with his least favourite person, but he didn't care. The metallic taste of blood still lingered on his tongue from biting Zoro. In the morning he'd be a mass of bruises and love-bites. But it didn't matter.

He wasn't thinking about cigarettes anymore.


	2. Part II: A Pack and Makeup

The crew of the Thousand Sunny ran back and forth across the grass deck, following Nami's instructions

Something hard and square slammed into Sanji's back just between the shoulder blades. The blonde cook jerked awake, blankets flapping above his legs as he kicked out at an unknown enemy. None was there, though, and Sanji relaxed slightly. Whatever had hit him hadn't been enemy fire. Sanji observed his surroundings. It wasn't the men's quarters, but a furnished cabin complete with mirror, sink, table, and the bed where Sanji lay. He was still somewhere on the ship- he recognized the Adam wood- but the room was unfamiliar. And he wasn't on the deck of the Thousand Sunny where he had fallen asleep after- _Oh, God._

"Oi," Sanji's head snapped up; his gaze fixed now on Zoro, the focus of his previous thought. Zoro spoke, "Didn't you hear me bastard? I said I brought you some smokes."

He glanced down to where Zoro had just pointed. There to his left was the object he'd been hit with moments before. The pack of cigarettes seemed almost sacred after a week of withdrawal. In a matter of seconds, a cigarette was in his mouth and his fingers were flicking the lighter on. He waved the flame in front of the square, and inhaled the precious tobacco. After a moment, he exhaled the smoke in a nice long stream. That smoke had never looked so beautiful.

"Hey, shit-cook," Zoro growled. Sanji took another drag. "No smoking in here. You'll stink up my room."

Sanji ignored him, and instead looked around again. Zoro's room. Sanji remembered Franky mentioning something about private cabins for the captain and first mate. Luffy had ignored the offer, preferring the company of his nakama to privacy. That had left all the hammocks in the men's room full. But Sanji had a feeling Zoro didn't mind the privacy; the room somehow fit with Zoro's personality. Sleep was probably easier, too, without Usopp's snoring.

How he'd gotten here, though, was what he was most curious about. Last thing he remembered was falling asleep curled into Zoro's chest with his fingers curled in the green-hair. "How- why am I in your room and not out there?"

Sanji jerked a finger in the direction of the deck. The swordsman shrugged. "I carried you in here some time after you fell asleep. Thought you might not want the others to find you unconscious out there."

Outside the sun shone brightly, high in the sky. Beyond the ship Sanji could see buildings; the town rose into the distance. Sanji could hear his nakama laughing and running around on deck. Luffy screamed something about lunch; Nami was wondering where all of their Beris had gone; Usopp told stories and Chopper listened intently. He wondered how long the Log Pose would take to set, and if he'd have time to get some supplies. The amount of meat Luffy could go through in a week was incredible.

"What did you tell them when they asked why I was in your room?"

"The truth." Sanji sat up more quickly than he'd thought possible.

"You did _what_?" He knew his mouth was hanging open like a carp's right before he'd gut it for a meal. "Why the fuck would you do something that idiotic? Even you're smarter than that, marimo."

"I believe my exact words were: 'That dartboard-brow showed up on the deck last night 'cause he couldn't sleep. He passed out eventually from lack of sleep. Brought him in so he wouldn't freeze. Pussy like him wouldn't have lasted the night.'" Sanji almost stood, ready to attack the shitty swordsman. But then he realized what exactly Zoro's words meant. He hadn't _lied_, but Sanji was safe. The Strawhats had no idea what had transpired the night before. No embarrassment or awkward explanations for either man.

"So you didn't say anything about…" He trailed off, unable to vocally express his worry.

"About what?" Zoro's face became blank, no expression whatsoever.

"You know- what happened."

"Nothing happened."

"But-"

"_Nothing_ happened," Zoro said, voice even. His face gave no indication that he was upset, but his eyes had that hard glint Sanji saw when the other man pulled the bandana over his marimo-hair. It was the dead serious look that Zoro, The First Mate, had when discussing Usopp's return. "You have shit for brains, cook. Hurry upstairs; the captain's hungry."

What was Zoro babbling about? Sanji didn't have shit for brains. He knew what had happened. That the two of them had- _fucked_. Sanji's blue eyes peered into Zoro's. The face remained completely blank, then suddenly the swordsman's lip twitched. It would have been unnoticeable had Sanji not been concentrating. There was a cut on the other man's lip where Sanji must have bitten him. It hadn't been a dream. Sanji tried to stand and tell him so, vis-à-vis, but searing pain shot from his rear through his spine. Another sign Zoro was lying.

Sanji stumbled, and Zoro was instantly there to catch him. Just as quickly, he jumped back and fled the room. Sanji watched him retreat, sighed, and stumbled toward the door. With each movement the pain returned. He'd have to find a way to walk that wouldn't hurt with each step. Wincing all day would definitely alert the crew.

He closed the door. His cigarette had burned down, so he flicked it across the room before lighting another. Then he scrambled across to the mirror and sink. A piece of paper rested by the faucet.

_To clean up, pervert-cook_ was scribbled on the note. A round container was beneath the paper. He opened it to find a shear powder. _Makeup_.

No way was Black-Leg Sanji putting on makeup. He looked at his reflection. There was blood by his ear and on his collarbone. His neck was a mass of bruises. His chest a nest of love-bites. They had to be hidden. His fingers touched the applicator brush, and he resigned himself to the fact that it was the only way to convince the crew. He shuddered to think what would happen if his nakama found out. Faggots weren't accepted on most ships.

Sanji took another hit from the cigarette and began applying the powder.


	3. Part III: Apologize and Deal

He _hurt_. He hurt when he walked into the galley. He hurt as he began making lunch, as he cut and peeled vegetables, as he bent over to grab a pot from below the stove. Sanji couldn't cook like this. Flicking his lighter on for another cigarette, Sanji sat on the table and winced. The sudden pressure from below sent another jolt through his spine. Sitting was more uncomfortable than standing. He twisted around to lie on his stomach. _Relief_. As long as he didn't move too much. It was getting better with time, though. In a couple hours it should be almost gone.

Sanji took a deep drag. It was more difficult lying down, but he deemed it necessary. The cook glanced at the stove. He'd decided that frying something was too difficult, so he had switched to noodles and vegetables seasoned with pepper and garlic (meat for Luffy). The least possible movement for the greatest result. It had been effective; and it gave him time to rest while the noodles cooked.

He took another drag and closed his eyes. The familiar taste was almost like a cure-all. It made the pain go away, or at least dulled it. Psychologically, he felt better. The joys of being an addict. Everything melted away; all that mattered was inhaling and exhaling.

The galley door swung open, and Sanji opened his eyes. Sunlight shone into the room, preventing him from clearly seeing the incoming figure until the door swung shut. Zoro's face loomed above him, a smirk imprinted on his face.

"What do you want, bastard?" Sanji said, swiveling onto his back so that he stared into the other man's eyes.

Zoro shrugged, paying no attention to the cook. He walked away, hands at his sides, swinging slowly in such a nonchalant way that blatantly ignored the palpable tension in the room. Sanji could feel it weighing down his chest and speeding his heart. Zoro approached the refrigerator but paused after noticing it was locked. He looked back at Sanji. "Oi, shit-cook. Open this up. I'm hungry."

"We're about to eat lunch, marimo," Sanji said while sitting up. He grimaced, however. Zoro saw him, and his smile widened. Sanji used all his control to keep his facial features blank as he stood. "Wait ten minutes."

"I'm hungry, and I don't want to eat your shitty food anyway."

"My food is not shitty, crap-swordsman." Sanji strode over to Zoro, his rear throbbing. He forced himself to ignore it. "Now get out of my kitchen. I spend all my time making food for lazy asses like you."

"You sure as hell weren't doing anything a minute ago. I don't mind; means I don't have to eat your crap-food." Sanji's leg was in the air, flying towards Zoro's head, when his spine spasmed. He had enough control to let the kick follow through, but not at the speed he could normally manage. Zoro had plenty of time to lean backward and let Sanji's attack fall. A clatter followed as Sanji's foot crashed into the water pot, sending it crashing to the floor- noodles and all.

"Get out!" Sanji's body quivered, and he could feel the blood streaming up to his face. He crouched over and began picking up the mess. In his head, a thousand ways to beat the shit out of the other man played. Sanji knelt at Zoro's feet, fighting his body's ache. He refused to acknowledge Zoro, and Sanj began to scoop the noodles into the tipped over pot.

Had he not been trying to completely ignore Zoro, he would have noticed that the swordsman had crouched also and was helping Sanji clean. Instead, both men unconsciously reached out in the same direction. Their hands met and immediately both jerked back to their respective people.

"Oi, cook." Zoro whispered. Sanji refused to look up. Absolutely _refused. _"I'm sorry about last night."

"I thought you said that nothing happened."

Zoro's words were full of self-loathing. "I shouldn't have said that. I don't want you to think that I'm just taking this lightly. I guess I should apologize."

"Pirate Hunter Zoro is apologizing?"

"Shut up, shit-cook." Sanji swallowed any comment he'd been about to say. "What I mean is, well, this is a big deal, no? Stuff like that isn't supposed to happen. But it did. We can't pretend it didn't."

Sanji's mind was completely blank. That could have possibly been the longest stream of intelligent words that Sanji had ever heard the swordsman say.

"True, but-" Sanji stopped, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to tell the other man. Right now, it felt like nothing would fit. Sanji stood and turned away from Zoro. His thoughts were rushing together inside his skull, and Sanji didn't have the time to pause and think clearly.

"Look, cook. I'm not the best at telling people how I feel, which I'm sure you have noticed. Earlier when I said that this was nothing, I didn't really mean that. I think. This isn't nothing to me. Last night meant something to me."

Sanji knew that his mouth was open. He knew that he should say something. He knew that the vein beating in Zoro's temple meant that Zoro was completely serious, but he still couldn't believe what the he had said. Zoro had thought it meant something? Sanji couldn't believe that he and Zoro were having this conversation, that Sanji had even put himself into this situation.

All Sanji could think to do was to end this conversation, that whatever this was- or wasn't- that they couldn't be discussing this. "Zoro, I'm not sure of what you want to hear. It was good, I guess for that sort of thing, but honestly, I'm pretty sure it was just a distraction. You know, so that I didn't have to focus on the withdrawal."

Several expressions flitted across Zoro's features. Hurt. Confusion. Acceptance. Confusion again. Sanji moved away. He didn't want to deal with what those had meant.

"I hurt you," Zoro said. Sanji paused in front of the sink, realizing that he must have been limping as he had walked.

"What?" Sanji hadn't anticipated this sudden change of subject.

"I hurt you. You're limping." The blood rushed to Sanji's face. He was embarrassed that the shitty swordsman had noticed the change in Sanji's gait. Embarrassed that he was weak enough not to be able to control the pain, that he couldn't hide it. He didn't want Zoro to know and then think him weak.

But maybe it was good that Zoro knew. Maybe Zoro would feel bad about it. Yeah, Zoro _should _feel bad for hurting Sanji, he thought maliciously. He should regret shoving himself into Sanji without any sort of preparation or warning. Zoro should feel bad for placing Sanji in this situation. The cook's mouth flew open, ready to spit out accusations, but the look on Zoro's face melted away whatever words had been in his head. There it was again; the previous mixture of emotions was on Zoro's face. It was so out of place. Such sudden range of emotion surprised Sanji. All he'd ever expected to see on the other man's features had been anger, annoyance, an idiot grin or that placid mask over his features during a fight.

Smart ass comments entered his head, but he kept his mouth shut. Somehow calling the swordsman shitty didn't seem like the right thing to say. Again, Sanji wished to rid himself of this situation.

"No, no. I'm fine," Sanji lied. He didn't want Zoro to hurt. He couldn't explain why, but he didn't. A weight settled on his chest, and the cause of it- for all he could guess- was Zoro. "Don't worry about me."

The green-haired man shook his head. "Something's wrong. Your food sucks, but you don't have a limp and your kicks don't just fail like they did just a moment ago."

Sanji knew that Zoro was right, but he still wanted to lie and pretend he was okay. That way Zoro wouldn't blame himself. _Goddammit, why the hell am I thinking these things? I don't give a shit about how the marimo feels. Right?_

"Whatever. Can we talk about this later? Lunch is ruined and I have to make something quickly before Luffy runs in here and tears apart my galley in a rage to get food?" Sanji turned away from the swordsman. He quickly moved towards the refrigerator and began searching for suitable food.

"Yeah. Sure," Zoro said dejectedly. Sanji heard the clomp of his boots as he moved out of the galley. "Don't make anything for me. I'm not hungry."

"But I thought-" Sanji glanced up to where he thought Zoro was. Instead, he just saw the empty doorway as the door swung back and forth. "-that was why you came in here."

As Sanji turned back to finding lunch, his mind raced. What had Zoro expected from this conversation? Had he really come in for food, or was it just for a moment alone with the cook? And if it was for food, there was no way that Sanji was going to let the marimo get away with no lunch. As a chef, it was his duty to ensure that all the members of the crew were fed. The bastard swordsman was no exception.

He paused. In all the time that he had stood with the refrigerator door open, he had pulled no ingredients out. Rather the cold air was escaping into the galley. Sanji quickly shut the door. Zeff would have kicked his ass right then and there had he seen Sanji's carelessness. You were never supposed to let you personal sentiments involve your cooking. He inhaled deeply as he tried to decide on what the crew might enjoy.

"Sandwiches will work, I guess," Sanji whispered. He pulled open the door once again. Into his arms he gathered some meats, tomatoes, cheeses, and anything else the crew might enjoy. Sanji decided that he would make this buffet style, and he set about creating such. He neatly stacked the turkey and salami- Luffy, of course, would have his own plate. Once done with the meats, he sliced the tomatoes and cheeses. All this he placed onto the table with some bread he had baked the day before.

Sanji hurried to the galley door and called his crew. Within a matter of moments seven crew members would pour in, crowding the tiny room. However, Sanji knew that he'd feel more alone than he might have had it just been him.


	4. Part IV: Kitchen and a Crow's Nest

The ship rocked over a wave, causing the dishwater in the sink to slosh onto the floor. Sanji sighed and reached into the water to unclog the drain. He'd gotten as much cleaning done as he could. Between the rocking of the ship and his tormented thoughts, Sanji had been unable to successfully clean the galley after the disaster that was lunch. Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp had held a contest to see who could create and then eat the largest sandwich. Neither the marksman nor the doctor had realized the Gomu Gomu ability allowed Luffy to stretch his mouth wide enough to swallow something that was over half of the kitchen table. That hadn't been the messy part. Nami in her infinite anger struck Luffy in mid-chew, and he had spewed across the kitchen. Usopp, smelling vomit, had also thrown-up, followed by Franky, and Sanji himself.

Sanji picked up the rag he had been attempting to scrub with. Whatever colour it had been before was no longer visible, and Sanji decided that it was better to toss the thing rather than place it in the wash. His feet carried him to the trash can, and his hand let the rag fall. All his actions were mechanic. Sanji's mind was elsewhere. It was focused on the sandwich in the refrigerator. Ham and provolone pressed together tightly inside a wheat baguette. Red onion circles placed perfectly around thinly sliced jalapenos. And Sanji had brushed all of it with a special balsamic vinaigrette-based spread. He'd made it before the crew had come in and ruined his kitchen, taken all the ingredients. Sanji had made it so that Zoro would have something to eat.

"I can't let anyone on this ship go hungry. It goes against-" Sanji stopped himself. He'd made it so that _Zoro_ would have something to eat, especially for him. Sanji knew that was why he had made it, and lying to himself wasn't going to change that. It just made him a coward, which was something Sanji wasn't.

Sanji sighed and shook his head, causing his blonde hair to swing back and forth in front of his eyes. Why the hell was he doing this? Why go to all this trouble to make that shitty swordsman lunch? And why the fuck wasn't Sanji following what his gut told him to do and find Zoro already? Something inside of Sanji was screaming at him to go to Zoro, to hurry and find the green-haired bastard as soon as he could and when he found him he would-

"What?" Sanji whispered. "I would what?"

Whatever he would do, Sanji had no idea. He supposed that he would figure it out. For right now, Sanji had to make Zoro's meal presentable. He quickly grabbed a platter and cover, readying the sandwich in the center of the platter. Sanji placed the cover on and headed towards the galley door. Leaning his back into it, Sanji took one last glance about his kitchen before gliding into the sunlight.

The crew moved about the deck, each doing his or her own thing. Luffy was demonstrating to Chopper what looked like a new attack, while Robin, amused, watched the pair over the top of some great history. From the muttering behind him, Sanji gathered that Nami was mapping charts near the wheel. He turned and waved gracefully at his Nami-swan. Rather than scream Sanji's named with desire, she ignored him and turned to Franky at the wheel. Sanji's heart fell sharply, but something inside his chest caught it before it plummeted all the way to his stomach. _Zoro_.

Sanji had expected to see the swordsman training on deck, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, Sanji found Usopp curled on the grassy surface with his slingshot. The sharpshooter was designated to the Crow's Nest for the day, and Sanji was surprised- almost appalled- to find him there. If Nami knew he was shirking duties-

"Oi, Usopp," Sanji called, stepping down towards Usopp. The other man looked up at him. "I don't want to be you if Nami finds you down here and not up there."

Usopp turned his head upward to stare at the Crow's Nest above him. It was a rather humorous sight, Sanji thought. His long nose was completely parallel to the mast, and were Sanji not a mature adult, he might have laughed at it. Usopp slowly looked back at Sanji.

"Zoro's up there," Usopp said.

"What?" Sanji asked. He looked up at their Crow's Nest. Unlike Merry's, the Crow's Nest of the Thousand Sunny was a its own room, a round one equipped with windows on all areas. It was also much taller than Merry's had been. It would be a pain in the ass to get up there all for the sake of this one sandwich delivery. If it weren't for this sudden, subconscious need to see Zoro, Sanji wouldn't do it. But something was pulling at him.

"Yeah. He charged in there right before lunch, mumbling something about last night," Usopp muttered. He had returned to fiddling with his slingshot. "Not that I mind, really. Gives Sogeking a chance to improve himself. Oh, Sanji. Listen to this: _In the land of sharpshooters, Sogeking was born in the folds of a flower. His mother was said to have…"_

Sanji quickly stepped away before his ears were infected with Usopp's obnoxious singing. Usopp continued belting out his lyrics even after Sanji had fled up the stairs for Sanji could still hear him even though he was almost to the Crow's Nest.

His heart was thudding in his chest, almost loudly enough to drown out Usopp. What would Sanji say to Zoro? How would Zoro respond? A mock conversation was forming in Sanji's brain as he ascended.

_So I brought you food. _Sanji would say.

_I'm not hungry. And your food sucks. _Zoro might respond. Or he might not say anything and ignore Sanji completely. Or he might take off the cover, look at the food, and say, _I'm sure not even you can ruin a sandwich_.

And for that Sanji would kick him, and this time he wouldn't allow any pain to prevent him from landing the blow. Then Zoro and Sanji would fight as they always did. The tension between them would disappear. Sanji wouldn't have to think about the feel of Zoro's skin, but rather when to block one of his katana.

Or Zoro would take one look at Sanji and say, _Thanks. I would have come to lunch, but it's hard to look at you without remembering how it felt being inside you. _

Sanji swallowed hard. That was so uncharacteristic of Zoro and so unlikely to come from his mouth, yet Sanji had still imagined Zoro saying it. And that scared Sanji. So terrified was he that he almost turned and fled down to the deck. Yet his feet and subconscious carried him forward.

And suddenly, Sanji was staring at the door. He was certain that when he opened it, he would find Zoro sitting directly across from the door. Sanji would find Zoro's gaze burrowing into him, analyzing him. In those moments, Zoro would be able to sense Sanji's fear, and even though he would not know the cause, he would know that Sanji was scared. Sanji was scared, whereas Zoro was not, giving the swordsman an edge Sanji did not want him to have. That- more than anything- stayed Sanji's beating pulse.

He lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips. Sweet nicotine filled Sanji's lungs, further allaying Sanji's fears. Then, he ran his fingers through his hair to make it seem fuller, hefted the platter higher, and reached out to the door handle.

As the door swung open, Sanji said, "Oi, marimo. I brought you food since you didn't come to the galley for lunch."

Sanji looked about the room. It was as he'd imagined, Zoro sat directly across from the door, eyes piercing into Sanji's skull. Except, Zoro wasn't analyzing him. His eyes told Sanji something else- that Zoro wanted something that Sanji had. Staring at the other man, Sanji was glad that he had taken that moment before entering the room. It felt like none of his mock conversations would take place, and yet all of them were still possible. A small part of him was screaming for the words of the final conversation to come from Zoro's mouth, but the majority of Sanji's being would have much preferred a fight.

The muscles in Sanji's legs itched for a chance to kick the other man square in the jaw. Zoro could see it. Of a sudden, Zoro was swinging a katana up at the cook. Sanji dodged the blade and placed the platter on the floor, all in one smooth motion. Then, he struck out at Zoro with no intention of stopping soon.


	5. Part V: Poison

This was what Sanji wanted. He wanted to feel the swoosh of air as Wadou swung over him. This was how it was supposed to be between the two of them. Sanji was supposed to kick Zoro in the head, call him marimo. And Sanji was supposed to duck under Zoro's swords, supposed to yell at Zoro when he was called shit-cook.

He was not supposed to think about the previous night, which was not supposed to have happened. Yet, it had.

Sanji bent backward to smoothly avoid Zoro's slash. His hands reached over his head and to the floor. Using this backward momentum, Sanji brought his feet up to firmly smack Zoro in the jaw. Although his feet had connected, Zoro remained uninjured. With his teeth gritted, Zoro had prevented harm. Sanji attacked once more by throwing his legs into air as he used his hands to spin his body around. Zoro managed to block a couple of blows, but eventually Sanji felt his feet hit Zoro squarely in the stomach. The swordsman exhaled sharply and stumbled backward. Sanji flipped himself upward, prepared to launch a series of kicks at the other man, but he found a sword pressing at his chest just above the heart.

He froze. Even when the two of them fought, it was never this serious. Sanji never kicked as viciously as he would in battle; he never sought to hurt Zoro. He'd believed Zoro felt the same. But if that were the case, would the tip of Wadou be digging into his chest. Sanji wondered what might have happened if he hadn't stopped when he had. Wadou might be buried in his chest, rather than threatening it.

The swordsman's face was blank. Completely empty. That scared Sanji, because that cold expression didn't fit Zoro's face. Bored, amused, confused, tired- all of those fit on that face. Sanji looked down, unable to face Zoro. But the moment his blue eyes moved away from Zoro's brown ones, the sword point pushed against his skin harder. Sanji winced as blood blossomed onto his nice blue shirt. That made him angry, whereas before he'd been scared. There was no reason for Zoro to ruin his clothes.

"Hey marimo, I just bought this shirt, and I was hoping it would survive for atleast a month before it got bloodspots. Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to get blood out?" Sanji stepped away slowly- any quick movements might cause Zoro to push Wadou deeper. As soon as he had moved away he brought his foot up to just underneath the sword's edge, ready to knock it away.

Zoro's voice caught in his throat. "What's in there?" Sanji looked where Zoro gestured. He had almost forgotten about the dish that he'd brought for Zoro.

"Food," Sanji said. Zoro's expression never changed. "Food for you."

"Why is it here?"

"Why? Well-" Sanji cut himself off as his mind went blank. Sanji had been unable to answer that question when he had asked it to himself. "Just eat it, marimo."

"I said I wasn't hungry," Zoro applied more pressure to the sword, and Sanji applied an equal amount with his foot.

"It seemed like you were lying." A moment passed where neither man said anything. Another moment in silence. Then Zoro flicked his sword out of Sanji's chest, his wrist turning so that Wadou turned to the side. Sanji inhaled sharply at the unexpected pain. Looking into Zoro's dead eyes, he knew that Zoro had meant to hurt him. Sanji quickly stepped out of reach in case the swordsman decided to stab him again.

After a pained moment, Zoro looked away from Sanji and to the dish. He crouched down, grabbed the handle to lift the lid off. Sanji was suddenly afraid to breathe for reasons he couldn't explain. Zoro looked back up with his dead eyes.

"Is it poison?"

Although Zoro had said it in all seriousness, the question was so unexpected that Sanji burst out laughing. Sanji had no intentions to murder the swordsman, no matter how much he disliked him. Sanji was still chuckling when he answered, "No, it's not."

Zoro turned away again suspiciously. "It's not."

"No, marimo, it's not," Sanji said. "It's a fucking sandwich."

The swordsman picked up the plate and stood up. He slowly walked to one of the seats, sheathed his sword, and collapsed into it. Sanji watched the other man curiously. Zoro was slouching, like he always was. He seemed bored like he always did. Zoro chewed and swallowed heavily like he always did. But something in those simple actions seemed a little different than how they normally were. In those strong, broad shoulders was tension. Zoro was trying to hide it, but so far was unsuccessful. Sanji could see the strain as veins bulged across the tight skin.

That tension was visible as Zoro lifted the sandwich to his mouth. Even his face grew taught as his lips curled around it. Sanji stared, for reasons he could not explain. Something in the way Zoro was chewing it, forcing himself to chew it almost. Zoro swallowed, and Sanji watched as the other man's Adam's apple bobbed. It was fascinating.

"I would understand if it was," Zoro said.

"What?"

"I would understand if it was poison," he said. Sanji couldn't read the look in Zoro's eyes.

"Why the hell would I want to poison you?"

Zoro took another bite of his sandwich, chewed it slowly, and swallowed before he said anything else. "Why wouldn't you? You don't want to kill me?"

"Kill you?" Sanji said. He liked to fight, but had never had any intentions to kill the other man. "No, I don't want to kill you. Although, it seems like you tried to kill me. Do you see this?" Sanji unbuttoned the top of his shirt, gesturing to the mark Wadou had left minutes before. "You tried to drive your fucking sword into my chest."

"I've been an asshole and you _don't_ want to kill me?" Zoro looked at him for an answer. Sanji had none. Zoro's eyes searched Sanji's face, then they darted to the ground. "I- last night I. What happened last night. I did that. All of it, and you still don't want to kill me?"

Sanji wasn't sure how to answer that. He just stared at Zoro, hoping some response would come to mind. His gaze traveled across Zoro's face and down his neck, at the base of which lay a bruise. In the shape of teeth marks. Sanji feet carried him closer to Zoro. His arm brought his fingers up to brush gently against the bruise. Sanji felt lightheaded.

"Well, you didn't do all of it."

As Zoro turned his head up, Sanji suddenly was afraid that the swordsman might pull Wadou out again, and he jerked his hand away. Zoro quickly brought his own hand up, curled his fingers around Sanji's wrist. The swordsman's tanned fingers seemed incredibly dark when next to Sanji's pale skin. Compared to his earlier attitude, Zoro was soft, and his grip was firm yet gentle.

"I'm sorry," Zoro whispered. "For stabbing you. I wasn't expecting you, and I wasn't ready to talk to you yet. Being that close to you, fighting- I'm tired." Zoro looked straight at Sanji as he struggled for words. Frustrated, his grip tightened around Sanji's wrist. Sanji gritted his teeth, but made no noise; he wanted to hear what Zoro was about to say. "I'm tired of fighting you. I just wanted to end it. Stop the fighting, you know? That's why I did that, why I almost killed you. I did almost. For a moment I wanted to, because it would stop it."

Zoro trailed off. "Stop what?"

"You'd be gone, and I'd stop feeling like this," Zoro said. He didn't add anymore. Zoro relinquished his hold on Sanji's wrist.

Sanji pulled a cigarrete out from his pocket, followed by his lighter. It smoldered between his fingers after he'd lit it. Sanji could see smoke leave his mouth as the moments of silence passed. "Look, I was an ass, too. When I said all that stuff in the galley it was just because I didn't want to have that conversation- this conversation. I'm not too good with this stuff. Whatever it is."

Zoro laughed. "Me neither. I'm not good with people in general actually."

"I've noticed, marimo." That comment earned him an icy glare.

"Shit-cook, don't call me that," Zoro growled, but it was soft, warm. "In all honesty, I hate people. The only reason I can tolerate anyone on this ship is because they're all outcasts like me."

"I am not an outcast," Sanji said.

"Yes, you are. For all the flirting you do, you never get any girl," said Zoro. "Also, your fucking eyebrows make you an outcast."

Sanji was unable to reply to that as Zoro kept talking. However, inside Sanji was pouting. "Since being on this ship, I've found that I can actually have friends. I love my nakama and am fully ready to die for Luffy's cause. But I don't feel like I need them to survive."

"On the crew's behalf I'll thank you for your undying support. Chopper will be glad to know that you don't need his medical skills anymore," Sanji said. He couldn't keep the sarcasm from bubbling forth.

"Shut up. I didn't mean physically survive," Zoro said. "I never felt like I needed anyone to make me happy. You know, I always felt that I could be without anybody's assistance. But now? Fuckin' A, I hate it. I hate knowing that I fucking depend on someone to be right fucking there. To know that they are right fucking with me. Fuck."

Sanji was shocked. Zoro's consistent use of expletives was comical. He was unused to hearing it all come out of the swordsman's mouth. The over-use of the word 'fuck' was more suited to Sanji's personality.

"I fucking hate it when you walk by me because I can smell your cologne. I fucking hate it when you walk in the room because you're always looking at something else other than me. I fucking hate it when I see you cooking, because you put your heart into accomplishing one task, and you get this concentrated look. I fucking hate that look because it makes me imagine what it would feel like to have you look at me that way. I fucking hate your hair and your eyes and your fucking eyebrows because I never want to look away from them. I fucking hate your fucking lips because they are so fucking tempting and I can't fucking deal with it anymore," Zoro said. His body was quivering under the strain that Sanji had witnessed earlier. That tension had taken over his body, struggling for a release. It was only contained through Zoro's incredible self-control.

What Zoro said had not begun to make sense yet. Sanji heard it all, but was too unsure of what to think to begin processing it. Yet it was coming together slowly as Zoro stepped toward him. The swordsman's rough hands reached up, one brushing across Sanji's chest where his shirt lay open, the other along Sanji's cheek. Sanji's cheeks grew hot as he flushed.

"I didn't really want to kill you," Zoro said. "I just wanted to stop feeling like I need you. As if you are somehow essential. I can't control how I feel anymore. And it seemed like I could end my need if you weren't here. That's what I was thinking before you came up here. And then you appeared and were ready to fight. I couldn't see you there without going crazy."

Against his cheek, Zoro's hand was trembling. The swordsman noticed it and pulled his hand away. He curled his hands into fists, brought them above his heads as he turned around, and let out a cry of frustration. Zoro didn't turn back around, but stood there. Sanji remained where he was. What was he supposed to say?

"Where are your smart-ass comments, Sanji?" Zoro chuckled dryly. There was something bitter in the way he said it, as though he was forcing the acidic words out. "Go on. Call me marimo, shit-swordsman, or a pussy. Just fucking say something."

Sanji had nothing to say that fit with what Zoro was saying. What was he supposed to say when Zoro told him that he needed Sanji. Because Sanji didn't feel that way. He didn't need Zoro for anything, right? And the previous night had certainly not meant as much to him as it had to Zoro. It had all been a distraction. Sanji hadn't been thinking sex, just a way to quench his nicotine addiction. What prompted their spontaneous fuck had been a fight and the taste of Zoro's blood. That taste of Zoro's weakness was what had caused Sanji to give himself to the other man. It was _not_ because Zoro intrigued him, or because Sanji was attracted to Zoro. No matter what thoughts he'd had this day- of possible situations, hypothesis about Zoro's feelings, curiosity- it did not mean he had wanted last night to happen. It did not mean he liked or wanted Zoro.

And it definitely did not mean Sanji was _gay_. That wasn't possible. Sanji was not gay. One only had to watch him to notice how completely obsessed he was with women. Zoro had to have seen that. If he hadn't it meant Zoro was blind- or an idiot- and Sanji would have to explain things to him.

Because this wasn't supposed to be happening, and Sanji wanted it to stop.

"Look, Zoro. I don't really know what to say," Sanji said. His throat was tightening, and Sanji coughed gently to clear it. "Except that I don't think about you like that. I never have. Last night just kind of happened, you know?"

"Yeah, it did."

"And it's never going to happen again." Zoro turned back to Sanji, slowly. "Because it's not really that important. It didn't mean anything to me."

"But-" Zoro gestured to the platter on the windowsill. "The sandwich. And you seemed all upset this morning and in the kitchen when-"

"I was confused. I couldn't remember what I- we did. I wasn't actually hurt, because it didn't matter." Sanji's cigarette had burned itself out, so he dropped the butt and lit another. "The sandwich was because I'm a nice person."

"So you-"

"So I what?" Sanji inhaled. The air was tense, and Sanji could feel it pricking at his skin. He knew that if this conversation continued at its slow pace, the tension would only increase. Its explosion would be more violent. Considering Zoro's mood, that was not something he was interested in witnessing.

"So you didn't like it?" Zoro said. "I mean, was it bad?"

"Bad? Yes and no. No because, well, you remember; it was great." He took another drag before he spoke again. "But it was bad, because it shouldn't have happened. It was bad because I'm not gay. At all. In my opinion, we should pretend like it never happened. We should never speak of this again."

Zoro's face had been hopeful when Sanji first began to speak. It had brightened when Sanji said it was great. But when he said that he wasn't gay, a frown appeared. The frown was now slowly becoming desperate frustration.

"Not gay? But you have to be." Zoro took a step toward Sanji. "You're completely obsessed with your clothing; whether or not it's clean, torn, or if it matches. You brought an iron when you came aboard."

"Just because I care about my appearance unlike the rest of the men on the ship, doesn't mean I'm gay."

"But you have to be."

"I'm not gay, Zoro." Sanji said. Zoro moved towards Sanji.

"But you have to be." Zoro was within arms reach. Something inside Sanji told him to grab hold of Zoro, pulling the swordsman into an embrace. That was something Sanji would never do. He was never going to embrace the other man, even if he was on his deathbed. He refused to do anything that reminded him of the previous night. "Sanji, I want-"

"I'm not a fucking homo!" Sanji screamed. "I don't want you, love you, or whatever the fuck you think towards me. It was a mistake, and I can't deal with the fact that I had sex with a man- _you_ of all people. Can't you get that through your thick skull, you fuckin' faggot?"

It felt as though everything stopped in that moment. As though the ship had stopped roiling over the ocean, causing everything else to freeze. And in the second before time began again, Sanji regretted what he'd said. But the ship roiled again, and with it Zoro's anger. Veins stood out across his neck, arms, and forehead. His hands flew to his katana.

"Get out," Zoro said. Zoro slowly drew a sword out, the light sound of metal against wood ringing throughout the quiet room. "Get _out_!" Zoro cried, swinging the sword down.

Sanji turned away and fled, leaving behind the anguish of the broken-hearted.


	6. Part VI: Screaming to Nobody

Sanji hadn't expected Zoro to come down for dinner. He'd assumed the other man would avoid him. It seemed to Sanji that Zoro wouldn't want anything to do with him. He'd supposed Zoro would spend the rest of his days in the crow's nest, and when he wasn't he'd just be fighting for Luffy's cause. Sanji wanted to spend the rest of _his_ days in the kitchen, hiding from his regret, a remnant of Sanji and Zoro's confrontation. If he could have stopped hearing his words, Sanji would have been able to cook a decent meal rather than the simple fettuccini alfredo he had made. But he was unable to push aside the guilt he felt. Zoro's anguished face kept appearing in Sanji's mind, and no amount of nicotine could ease his regret.

It worsened as Zoro entered the galley. He was walking next to an excited Luffy, who was regaling Zoro with his day. Sanji could hear Zoro laughing as he followed the rest of the crew into the kitchen. Sanji froze in the middle of setting the table. His eyes moved to follow Zoro as he went to his usual seat. In his hand was a mug, the liquid inside swirling slowly. Zoro took a large swallow, raising the mug so only his eyes were visible. Those eyes fixed themselves on Sanji as if to say 'ha, I'm still here'. Zoro's eyes were red, pupils dilated, and over-watery.

Zoro was drunk and acting perfectly normal.

"Oi, Sanji," Luffy cried. Sanji quickly jerked his gaze away from Zoro. "Sa-a-anji! Where's the food?"

"Give me a minute," Sanji said. He had to turn back to the counter to get the remainder of the dishes and the pasta. In the moment when his back was to the crew, Sanji closed his eyes to gather himself. He inhaled deeply, and then picked up the meal. "Nami-swan, I made a special dish for you and Robin-chwan!"

Sanji passed two bowls to Nami and Robin. He smiled, hoping to charm the women. Robin smiled and took the bowl.

"Sanji, there's no meat!" Luffy said.

Sanji sighed, went back to the counter, and brought over the counter, and grabbed a roast he had made just for Luffy. "I was considering making you a vegetarian, but that would be too cruel. So here, just for you Luffy."

Sanji had no opportunity to walk the plate to the table, because Luffy stretched his arm out to take it. It quickly snapped back, and Luffy turned to bowl over to dump the meat into his mouth. He chewed and did not pause to swallow before he spoke. Sanji avoided looking at Luffy while he ate. That was usually the best way to get through a meal here.

After one last look to make sure the dinner was perfect, Sanji went to his usual seat at one of the horizontal sides of the table between Robin and Nami. Unfortunately, this placed him directly across from Zoro. Sanji tried not to look at him, but his gaze betrayed him, moving to watch Zoro. He was laughing at some joke Franky had just made. Sanji couldn't believe how easily Zoro was able to act normally. It must have been the alcohol's effect. Zoro showed no hint of the anguish he'd been in earlier, but Sanji couldn't forget what he'd said. He wasn't able to push aside his regret. It was eating him up, bubbling in his stomach. It felt as though the guilt had turned into the acid. It was like an ulcer.

Nami said something, and Sanji forced his eyes away from the swordsman's rough features to the beautiful woman beside him. He smiled radiantly at his mellorine. Sanji watched Zoro out of the corner of his eye as he spoke with Nami. The swordsman was continuing his conversation with Franky and Luffy, but the sparkling in his eyes was starting to dim. Zoro smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Zoro reached to his cup on the table to take another drink. Sanji watched as Zoro pushed his thoughts away with drink.. As he drank, his eyes were on Sanji. Sanji couldn't bear his gaze.

Dinner passed with Sanji pointedly talking to Nami and Robin. He made sure that Zoro saw that his attention was on the women, and that he was, in no way, preoccupied with their earlier conversation. Sanji flattered, flirted, and flaunted his extreme affection for Robin and Nami. He over-emphasized his attraction to let Zoro know that Sanji was completely unaffected and guilt-free.

Which was the complete opposite of how Sanji really felt.

Sanji kept glancing sidelong at Zoro. When he was staring into Robin's eyes, he was actually watching Zoro out of his peripheral. He searched the swordsman's face for a hint of pain. He looked at those features, wondering what Zoro was hiding behind his mask. Sanji knew that there must be something, because no person on earth would be able to smile and laugh after they had just been insulted. After the person they loved told them that they were worth nothing. _You fucking faggot_, trailed through Sanji's brain. It repeated and built with each refrain. To Sanji, it seemed that it was loud enough for all of the others to hear. That they too were hearing Sanji's cruel words.

He almost wanted them to. If they knew what Sanji had told Zoro, then Zoro wouldn't be alone in his pain. Sanji knew that if someone had said those things to him, he would need someone to turn to. But whom can you ask for help when they might turn you away because you are unnatural. Because you're gay and completely unacceptable in society. True, the Straw-hat Crew was pretty accepting, but what if they threw him out? Sanji knew that those would have been his fears were he in Zoro's place.

Dinner ended, and as the crewmembers got up to leave, Sanji watched them. First Luffy bounding out while pulling Chopper and Usopp along. Franky and Robin left together, his hand gently placed at the small of her back as he whispered something private. Brooke hummed softly to himself. Zoro stood slowly and walked to the door. His actions all seemed mechanical as though Zoro was consciously making his legs move, rather than his muscles and nerves acting automatically. He didn't look back as he pushed the galley door open. He just kept walking at a steady even pace with his mug in one hand.

Before she left, Nami turned to Sanji. "You want help with those dishes? I'll get Zoro back here to help. He hasn't done anything all day as far as I know."

"No," Sanji said too quickly. His voice caught in his throat. "I'll do them."

"Sounds good," Nami said. She pushed the door open. "Remember you have watch tonight."

The door closed behind her. Sanji heard her footsteps on the stairway, a soft clicking that slowly vanished. Sanji looked around the silent galley. Moments earlier, it had been full of bustling joy. Now, it was eerily similar to Sanji: quiet, isolated, and filled with remnants of previous events. These dirty dishes were easily cleaned. Sanji could wash them, put them in their respective spots, and quit the room. Hardly any effort would be required to put leftovers in the refrigerator, conveniently placed for quick removal.

Sanji pulled a cigarette from his pocket. _Too bad I can't get rid of this shit with Zoro as easily_, he thought, lighting the tip of his cigarette. He brought it to his lips, inhaled, but let it sit between his lips as he muddled through his thoughts. He knew that the ash would drip down, possibly landing on his pristine clothes. But it didn't matter. What mattered was this pit in his stomach, this regret that was caught in his throat that was slowly choking him. Sanji took another drag, praying that the smoke might travel through his windpipe, fill his lungs, and eliminate everything he had done and said to Zoro.

He didn't hate Zoro. Zoro didn't deserve such treatment. Sanji had no right to scream, yell and accuse as he had done. In stories, when you told somebody you loved them, they smiled and said the same. If they didn't, you could get them to eventually fall for you by doing something like slaying a dragon. But there were no dragons for Zoro to slay, and in stories a man didn't fall for another man.

This wasn't a story, because stories also never showed the characters struggling to combat their mistakes.

Sanji sighed. His cigarette had burnt itself out in the minutes that had passed, and Sanjie flicked it into the trashcan. There was no use for it now. Sanji began to sort through the dishes. He first washed the silverware and cups, and then reached for the plates. It went as smoothly and mindlessly as he had predicted. Still when Sanji was done and the kitchen was clean, none of his regret and guilt had been cleared away.

He lit another cigarette. Through the little window in the galley door Sanji could see the black night. The lights on the ship were dim, and through the small opening Sanji could see the wide array of stars. Sanji slowly left the galley with his head lifted to the sky. He stared at those stars. They were infinite, shining down on an ocean just as infinite. In between them were the crew and the Thousand Sunny, but at that moment, it felt as though Sanji was the only thing between two infinite abysses.

The deck lay abandoned. None of his nakama were in sight. They were either partying below- Luffy, Usopp, Franky- or had chosen sleep- Nami, Robin. Sanji wondered in which category Zoro was. Considering how drunk he'd been at supper, it was quite possible he was below deck celebrating with Luffy. Or he was sleeping per usual. Or, Sanji thought, he could very well be puking his guts out in the bathroom. The consequences of drinking too much. The consequences of drowning out Sanji's hateful words.

The conversation kept replaying in Sanji's head. Zoro describing how he saw Sanji. Sanji admitting that the sex had been great, but then rebutting Zoro's accusation. Sanji wasn't gay. It was necessary for Zoro to know that, but Sanji wished he had put it in nicer terms. On some level, Sanji knew he never wanted to see Zoro's face contorted in such agony ever again.

He didn't know why he felt that way. He certainly didn't love Zoro. Even thinking that made Sanji gag. Men weren't supposed to love other men. It was wrong. It was fucking disgusting. _You fuckin' faggot._ And yet, Sanji was standing on the deck where he had slept with another man only twenty-four hours previously. He moved away and to the bow.

Standing just in front of the figurehead, Sanji looked out across the ocean. It was too dark to see more than five feet in front of him, but just staring that way made his head a little clearer. Rather than concentrating just on those few words, Sanji was able to reflect on other things. Out here on this infinite ocean, there were very few things to hold onto. One was nakama. The other was ideals, values, and the dream. There were too few opportunities to meet someone special. No hope of stopping long enough on one island to create a lasting relationship. Once the log pose set, the Strawhat crew would be off.

Even on Baratie, there had been no time to find a girlfriend. Sanji had had his fair share of one-night stands, but nothing serious ever came of them. At the end, Sanji always went home alone. Almost every night of his life, Sanji had gone to bed without companionship. He thought about how he had hoped for a lover- not just a fuck- on all those cold winter nights on Baratie. Somebody who would wrap their arms around Sanji. For as much of a ladies' man he was, he had never taken a chance to fall in love. Never enough time to commit. Never enough time to overcome the fear of being hurt. A fear that overshadowed his loneliness.

Sanji turned around to look at the grassy part of the deck. It was too dark to see clearly, but in his mind's-eye he knew where their spot was. He walked toward it and looked down at the deck.

Last night he had fallen asleep curled against another body. Albeit a man's body, but somebody nonetheless. He could picture it in his mind. His head had been resting on Zoro's chest in just the right place so that he could hear the other man's heart beat. One arm was flung about Zoro's waist as Zoro's arms wrapped around Sanji's shoulders. In those moments, Sanji had been completely relaxed. He wasn't sure that he would ever feel that way again.

Regret was slowly consuming whatever poise Sanji had. All of his self-control was coming untied. There was little chance that Zoro would ever want to talk to Sanji again. He'd try to avoid him. Sanji would never have another chance to be held like that. Standing on the deck, Sanji couldn't believe that he wanted to be back where he had been last night. He couldn't believe that he'd said those things to Zoro. It was as though he had reached into the deepest part of the other man and had ripped out what was vital. Sanji had never thought of himself as cruel before; it was only today that he had seen himself as such.

His shoulders shook, his lips quivered, and Sanji tried to prevent the tears from coming. They were building up, threatening a meltdown. He knew that if he broke down here, he would never be able to recover. He would spend the rest of the night on the deck, staring at the place where he and Zoro had slept. Sanji was unable to accept such a breakdown. And there was no way he was going to sit on the deck of the Thousand Sunny and bawl. He was Blackleg Sanji, worth 77 million Beli. Nobody would see him cry. He refused to be weak, to let anyone see him as weak.

Sanji closed his eyes. His fists clenched, unclenched. He made his mouth into an 'o' and breathed in slowly. Air rushed into his lungs, which he in turn pushed out again. Sanji breathed in and out. The tears behind his eyes eventually stopped threatening. Sanji was able to regain control. He was no longer in danger of breaking down on the deck.

He steeled himself and began walking toward the crow's nest. He had watch tonight, and it was about time Sanji did his job. With every step, Sanji worked to strengthen his resolve. _I was an ass, yes, but Zoro really had no reason to expect that I'd confess a secreted love, too. He had to have known that I'm not gay. He _had _to have known. _

Sanji knew he wasn't gay. He also knew that Zoro would never forgive him, and Sanji would forever have to live with his guilt. Sanji told himself that it would be alright, he just needed to apologize. Once he apologized, they could go back to how it had been. Except not. Sanji didn't know how Zoro would act now, but Sanji knew that he would look at Zoro, and every time he would remember how it had felt to fall asleep next to him.

_No, not next to Zoro. Well, yes next to Zoro. But not specifically him. I don't want to sleep with Zoro. I just-_

"I'm a fucking idiot." He smacked his fist against the mast. Again: "A fucking idiot."

The wind rushed by the ship. At his height on the mast, the wind felt all the stronger. It pricked at his eyes, biting them. Sanji put his back to the wind and rubbed his eyes. He continued up the steps.

_I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to see that look on his face. I just couldn't deal with that. I'm not going to deal with this shit. This screwed up- fucked up- situation that happened out of an accident. None of this was supposed to happen. If Luffy hadn't jumped off the ship then I would never have been out here last night. I wouldn't have been here when Zoro wanted a fuck. I wouldn't have had to scream at him today. I wouldn't be walking up these fucking steps, trying not to break down and cry, because I just want to be held again._

"Shit," Sanji whispered. Something deep inside him was screaming to nobody, _hold me!_ Even though Zoro hadn't meant to answer, he had. He had held Sanji. Sanji had held him.

_You fuckin' faggot_, Sanji heard himself say.

By now Sanji was standing in front of the door to the crow's nest. Eight hours previously Sanji had stood here as he imagined various conversations that might play out. None of those had happened.

He opened the door. The crow's nest was dark, and there was no way Sanji would be able to see well enough to keep watch properly. He flipped the light switch. As soon as the darkness fled, Sanji's eyes shot to one side of the room. Small, silver. The plate lay upside down on the floor. Sanji slowly walked toward it. His footsteps echoed in the small room, and, to Sanji, it seemed that they were louder than his heartbeat. That seemed impossible, because his heart was racing in his chest. He bent down and turned the plate over.

"He ate the sandwich." Sanji said with a bitter smile. "I guess hunger won out over hatred."

He sat down and looked up at the ceiling. _It's good to know that he could still eat. Goddammit, _he thought, _why am I still thinking about this shit? I shouldn't care. I know I shouldn't. But I still can't stop thinking about him. Last night- his strong arms. Fuck me. I've screwed up._

It was then that Sanji realized he was crying. He had been listing his mistakes inside his head for so long, that he hadn't noticed the tears running down his cheeks. He told himself to stop crying, that he was not going to break down and cry like a baby. That he had no real reason to cry. So what if he had ruined his one chance to be loved, just because he wasn't gay. That was no reason to cry. If anything, he should be crying because he was considering letting a man hold him, and by doing so was becoming a disgusting creature. _But no, I'm crying because Zoro will never want me again._

Sanji cried and cried. He cried for a lost chance to be loved. He could have let Zoro take care of him, hold him, love him, but he had thrown it all away because he wasn't gay. He had tossed aside this chance when he hurt Zoro. It didn't matter that he wasn't gay, that it was disgusting and completely wrong. That had nothing to do with Sanji's need to stop being alone. What people would say or how they would react didn't matter. All Sanji wanted to do at that moment was let Zoro hold him, let Zoro love him. He wanted to erase what he had said and tell Zoro that it was okay. That, perhaps, Sanji needed him too.

When dawn broke through the confines of night, Sanji was still in the crow's nest with only misery to accompany him. The night had been spent with guilt and commiseration. Through the hours of weeping, Sanji had decided that he needed to apologize to Zoro. He needed Zoro to need him.

He needed a shower to calm his nerves. He needed to erase the puffy and bloodshot eyes and the tear streaks that were tell-tale signs that he had been crying. He tried to light a cigarette, but his hands shook so much that he was unable to flick the lighter on. Sanji gave up and fled down the stairs. He hurried into the bathroom and readied himself for a scalding shower. It would let him burn away the night's despair and clear his head before he saw the swordsman at breakfast.

_Shit_, he thought. _Breakfast._


	7. Part VII: Provocation

He was tired. It wasn't just because he had gotten absolutely no sleep the night before. It had been several days since he had gotten a good night's sleep, and by this point he was already running on overdrive. It wasn't just his frayed emotions that were tiring him.

Sanji was tired of Zoro's shit. Sanji knew that he didn't have any reasons to complain. Zoro was only acting this way because of Sanji's words. But it was still pissing Sanji off. Zoro wasn't supposed to act like this. Zoro was a blunt, forward man who didn't evade his problems. He was, though. And Sanji was tired of it. When Zoro wasn't avoiding Sanji, it was his complete pliability that was making Sanji cranky.

Zoro had come to breakfast with the tell-tale signs of a hangover. He grimaced every time somebody spoke, flinched whenever a fork hit a dish, and squinted so that he didn't have to expose his eyes to the morning's full brightness. Sanji wondered how much Zoro had drunk last night. The last time Zoro had looked this bad was after a drinking contest on an island they had stopped at. Sanji wasn't sure what the specific amount Zoro had had was, but at the beginning there were three people and one keg of beer. At the end, Zoro was the last man standing and the keg was empty. Sanji had given Zoro so much shit about it the next day- speaking just a little louder than necessary, asking him difficult questions. Nami, in her sadistic joy, had helped make Zoro miserable that day.

Today, however, Sanji hadn't even considered poking fun at Zoro's misery. He figured that would just be cruel considering how much emotional pain Zoro must already be in. Franky and Nami, though, had no qualms about messing with Zoro. Throughout the meal, they plagued and mocked him. Sanji had expected Zoro to get angry, threaten them. He wasn't one to let those things slide. Zoro just sat and listened, chewing his food, before he got up and excused himself.

Sanji wasn't the only one who noticed Zoro's uncharacteristic behaviour. Robin, also, had excused herself early, chasing after Zoro.

But it wasn't just at breakfast that a slight hadn't had any affect on Zoro. It usually took a lot of effort for Nami to coerce him into helping her. Yet she only had to ask once for Zoro to carry a bundle of papers into her study. His quiet acquiescence suggested that he might help out with other tasks. Nami asked him to bring up another bundle. He did. She asked if he would carry her table out onto the deck so she could use the natural daylight to work on her charts. He did. She asked him to stay within earshot so she could call on him for anything. He did. Without any complaints.

The crew saw this happening, and some, like Chopper and Usopp, decided to take advantage of Zoro's compliant mood. He carried and placed everything they asked. Chopper had him carry bloody bandages out of the infirmary. Usopp asked him to place explosives in his special pachinko, a task that more often than not left little burn marks all over whoever was placing them in the pachinko. Zoro escaped that task when Nami called him away.

Sanji watched all of this, growing angrier as the day wore on. Zoro was acting like a complete pushover, and not the strong swordsman and stronger willed man that he normally was. The only reason for this, that Sanji could see, was Sanji. Zoro's will had been destroyed. He was obeying everyone's whim, even postponing his own training.

Sanji had just finished cooking dinner and was heading out of the galley to call everyone in, when he realized that something had to be done. It was wrong of him to just let Zoro continue in this mindlessness. Zoro needed to stop being such a fucking wuss and be the first mate Luffy had chosen.

He went up to the deck and called the crew in. Seven of them poured in, but Sanji saw no sign of Zoro. Sanji poked his head into the galley and told the crew to begin eating without him. Robin looked up with a smile on her face. Sanji didn't want to know what that smile meant. Rather he turned and went to find Zoro.

He was trying to ignore the pit in his stomach that seemed to be gradually growing bigger as he looked around the deck for Zoro. The swordsman wasn't anywhere in sight, so he climbed the stairs to the crow's nest. He dreaded finding him there, dreaded another encounter that might mirror yesterday's. But Zoro wasn't up there. A sigh of relief.

Sanji went to look in the quarters below deck. Zoro wasn't in his room or the bathroom. The only other places to look were the boys' bunk, the girls' room, and the storage room. Sanji went to the boys' bunk first, figuring that was the most likely place to find him. He opened the door and stepped into the dark room. He flipped on the lights.

There were five hammocks in the room, with space to put more in. Zoro didn't usually sleep in here, but the other male crewmembers each had their own specific bunks. Sanji's was a bottom one, which was currently occupied. Zoro lay in it, a blanket around his shoulders so that only his green head was visible. He wondered if Zoro knew that was his hammock or if he had chosen a random one to sleep in.

"Turn off the lights," he growled, except there was no menace in it.

"It's time for dinner, marimo."

"Not hungry." Zoro curled into the blankets more.

"I made food for you," Sanji said, "and it will go to waste if you don't come eat."

"Luffy will eat it." His voice was becoming mumbled, and Sanji assumed that Zoro had turned his head into the pillow. "Turn off the lights when you leave. Please."

"Luffy's going to get fat if he keeps eating as much as he does. Get up off your lazy ass and come eat, shit-swordsman."

Zoro didn't say anything. He merely lay there.

"Fucking marimo. Stop being such a pussy," Sanji said. He tried to think of other things to say, anything to get a reaction from the other man. He was tired of Zoro's attitude. Sanji stepped closer to the hammock. "How the hell are you going to get to be the world's greatest swordsman by lying around here? You can't fucking do shit here." Sanji was now within kicking distance of Zoro. "Shit-swordsman. How you going to keep your fucking promise to Kuina?"

Sanji expected a reaction from that, but all he got was: "I'll keep it." There was no blow-up or anger as Sanji questioned Zoro's resolve. His response only confirmed his current lack of ambition.

"Just leave, please," Zoro said. Sanji couldn't believe what he was hearing. Zoro had said 'please' twice now, perhaps, the first two times Sanji had ever heard those words from Zoro's mouth. So frustrated was he by this lack of emotion that Sanji lashed out at Zoro, swinging his leg up into the hammock. Zoro grunted, but didn't move. Sanji kicked again. Again. Again. Each time, he swung his foot down, smashing his foot into Zoro's side, back, or stomach. Finally, in his anger, Sanji kicked the hammock so that Zoro tipped out of it and onto the floor. Zoro pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Sanji kicked him again so that Zoro fell harshly.

"What do you want, Sanji?" Zoro said. He stood up slowly. "Did you just come here to kick the shit out of me? Or did you want to call me faggot again? You come to kick the shit out of a faggot?"

Sanji didn't know what to say. No, he hadn't come down here to hurt him, but it probably looked that way. Especially when compared to Sanji's accusations. "No. I just came down to get you to stop being such a pushover. You've been letting Nami boss you around all day. Why the fuck would you do everything she asked without even complaining? You aren't being your usual annoying self. I hate it. It's fucking pissing me off."

"Do you want me to scream and yell at everyone? Do you like the grumpy, asshole Zoro better than the sensitive faggot one?" Zoro said. Sanji swallowed whatever he had been about to say after hearing that last bit. "Well he's here. Now get the fuck out of here before I fucking kill you."

"I'd like to see you try, shithead," Sanji said. Zoro stepped closer to him, grabbed his shirt at the collar, and pulled Sanji close.

"I swear to God, Sanji, don't tempt me."

Sanji shouldn't have been threatened by that, but he was suddenly worried. He wouldn't have let Zoro kill him, or get close enough to try. He had wanted normal Zoro, not this sadistic, serial killer Zoro. Sanji turned and began to leave the room. He stopped at the door, looked over his shoulder at the swordsman. Veins were visible across his face and his teeth were clenched, but Zoro wasn't watching Sanji. He was staring at the floor. Sanji saw watery eyes and knew that Zoro was fighting back tears.

"I'm sorry," Sanji whispered. "For what I said. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I am sorry."

He didn't wait for Zoro to respond, but just hurried up the stairs and to dinner. He didn't want to die by Zoro's hands, nor could he bear to see the swordsman cry. He didn't want Zoro to be in any more pain than he was, and he didn't want to see that pain.


	8. Part VIII: Scent Triggers Memory

Somehow Sanji had managed to fall asleep. True, he had long passed exhaustion, but his racing mind hadn't made it easy. The time he'd spend lying in bed had seemed like hours of torture. All he had been able to think about was Zoro. Sometimes it was Zoro's anger that he thought of. Twice now Zoro had been angry enough to come close to seriously hurting Sanji. The first time Zoro tried was in an attempt to rid himself of his self-torture, but the second was all Sanji's fault. Sanji had deserved that threat. Again he'd been a dick, completely insensitive. Sometimes Sanji thought about what Zoro had told him- that he loved Sanji. Sanji had never been loved. He thought about that, too.

During some point as he lay in bed, Sanji had thought about Zoro's blood. He could remember the taste of it and how it had smelt during their tumultuous sex. Sanji thought about how he was the one who had drawn blood. Usually when someone bled, they became weaker. Sanji had loved making Zoro bleed during their passion. But Sanji hated knowing that he was Zoro's mental weakness. With all these thoughts burning through his mind, Sanji couldn't help but wonder if Zoro was his weakness, too. After all, this current obsession with Zoro had brought him to a state of mental and physical exhaustion. If Zoro was Sanji's weakness, what else did that make him? Could that mean that Sanji reciprocated those feelings?

"No," Sanji had murmured just as sleep overcame him. These were the thoughts that Sanji had. Now he lay in his hammock that still held a lingering scent of Zoro. Sanji hadn't registered it, but his unconscious mind knew it. Scent triggers memory.

He was dreaming, and he knew it. He knew that he was dreaming and that he should be able to change the course of the dream, but he couldn't. Sanji wanted to, because this wasn't a dream he wanted. In fact, it was more of a memory with several new additions. Among which was a bed. Sanji was reliving his night with Zoro, but on a bed and without the same sense of urgency. There was a lot more teasing and a lot less violence.

Zoro was tender and gentle. Sanji was submitting to Zoro's touch. He was letting Zoro lick his way down Sanji's chest, a meticulous path that was charted out to create maximum reaction. Zoro was sliding Sanji's pants off. They were tight and suffocating until Sanji's erection sprang free of the waistband. Outside the dream, Sanji's actual body was reacting as well. His mind screamed that this was so wrong, but the dream didn't end.

In Sanji's mind, Zoro nipped gently at the spot where the hip turns into the pelvis. There was a nerve there that Sanji didn't even know existed until the swordsman bit there. Sanji gasped, both in the dream and aloud. In the dream, Zoro was lifting Sanji up and onto him as he had done just two nights before. Sanji groaned. Loudly.

Suddenly, Sanji's eyes snapped open. He realized that he had done so. The room was silent, and he prayed that nobody had heard him. He lay in the dark, listening, as his eyes adjusted. His mind still wasn't fully awake yet, so when he was finally able to see the man in front of him he thought he might still be dreaming. His eyes met Zoro's, and Sanji realized he wasn't dreaming anymore and the swordsman was actually sitting in front of him. Even in the dark Sanji could see the pain that was tinged with longing and desperation. Zoro's eyes widened, the only indication that he knew Sanji was awake.

There was a long moment where the two men were just staring at each other, then Sanji was moving forward. He didn't want to be, but there was a lingering hunger from his dream. That was the only reason he was leaning in, he told himself. Zoro had frozen, however, his eyes growing even wider. Sanji was only inches away when his mind awoke fully. He stopped where he was as he tried to figure out exactly what he was doing. Then Zoro was leaning in to close those last few inches. Sanji jerked back, scrambling away as quickly as he could.

He had moved as far away as he could, so that his back was now pressed up against the wall. And by the time he got there, Zoro had fled the room, and Sanji was alone again.


	9. Part IX: Infinite Wisdom

A week had passed since Sanji had nearly kissed Zoro. No, since his body reacted to Zoro due to a very disturbing dream. Sanji hadn't had anything to do with that incident. It had all been leftover urges. It didn't mean that Sanji felt any different toward Zoro than he had days before. Nothing would change that. Nothing would make Sanji change his mind about Zoro.

Because Zoro was still an ass. He was still rude, inconsiderate, brutish, and way too brusque for anyone to actually get along with him. And he was a man. Sanji would never look at Zoro and see him as anything other than a male crewmember. That happened to be incredibly attractive.

Sanji was refusing to admit that last bit. He was refusing to admit quite a lot of things. Such as the fact that he had spent a good majority of the past week thinking and obsessing over Zoro. Sanji, in his infinite wisdom, had spent a good amount of time convincing himself that Zoro meant little to him, and that Sanji needed to drop the topic. There was absolutely no reason why Sanji should spend his time thinking about that stupid green-haired swordsman.

But he was. Sanji refused to admit that he was obsessing, and he refused to accept that he couldn't stop. And, God, did he want to stop. Constant obsession made even the simplest of tasks much more difficult. In the shower it was all Sanji could to do stop the memory of Zoro thrusting into him. Sanji couldn't help seeing Zoro every time he walked on deck to serve his Nami-swan and Robin-chwan. He couldn't sleep at night for fear that he would dream as he had. Or that he would awake suddenly to find Zoro watching him again. Sanji didn't know if he could handle waking up next to those startling eyes ever again.

About the only thing Sanji _could_ do was cook and smoke. The first was simple. He got to make three meals for nine people a day and then snacks for all those times in between. Sanji had decided that he needed to keep his hands busy, so he had confined himself to the galley so that he could cook and bake to his heart's content. In the past week, Sanji had already made seventeen batches of cookies, three cakes, six loaves of bread, a stew that he had frozen and could be reheated on a future day when he didn't want to cook, nine pitchers of lemonade, and as many other sweet and non-meal specific foods that he could think of.

He told himself that the reason he was making all of this was to please Nami and Robin, because after each was done, he had run outside to give them the first choices. Per usual, they smiled patronizingly and politely accepted his offerings. Sanji professed his love for them half-heartedly; he was blaming that on lack of sleep. That would be the only reason his love for them wouldn't be heart-felt. His current fixation on Zoro had nothing to do with it, of course.

But for those occasions when he went to deliver food, he remained in the kitchen, even when he wasn't cooking. _It's safe_, he thought. _In here there will be no chance encounters._ Zoro was obviously avoiding him, coming into the galley for meals only. And Sanji was certainly not avoiding him. He was just making it easy for Zoro to avoid him by staying in the galley. That was one of the many excuses as to why he remained in the kitchen. Each was an unconscious, perfectly rational explanation to avoid thinking about Zoro.

Sanji couldn't leave the galley and go onto the deck because the grass on the Thousand Sunny was green like Zoro's hair. He couldn't go and look at the ocean because both blue and green were colors. Below deck was out of question because the air was stale with all the breaths the crew had taken; breaths Zoro, too, had taken. Most vegetables couldn't be used in their meals because they too were green. He felt trapped in his clothes, because Zoro also wore clothes, but being naked was out of the question. What if Zoro saw him? And everything Sanji smelled reminded him of Zoro's scent; the wind brought a fresh scent, the sun brought heavy, hot scent, and the moving crewmembers mixed together brought in a rush of scents that was overwhelming in the same sense that Zoro was overwhelming. It made Sanji sick.

For all these reasons and more, Sanji stayed in his kitchen, cooking and smoking. With each passing day, he had begun to feel more trapped. Whereas the walls had once meant safety, they now felt like a cage. Although the cage was preferable to the outside, Sanji still felt suffocated. And trapped within his mind, Sanji went through his own mental torture. He kept thinking about Zoro, about how he had torn the other man apart. The guilt was building inside him with such intensity that it made Sanji ill. He hadn't been able to do anything to suppress it. His apology had been half-assed because he was such a fucking coward. He had never been a coward about anything. Not when he had decided to find All Blue or when he had joined the crew of a moronic future Pirate King or when he and Zoro had fucked on the deck of the Thousand Sunny. He had gone into all of those things with little thought or concern, but it was now that he feared the consequences of confronting his guilt. Confronting Zoro.

By the third day of this torment, Sanji had decided he needed to focus his mind on something else, because cooking wasn't really having the calming effect he'd been going for. Rather, it was making it worse as he thought up dishes that the swordsman might like to eat. For the first time in his life, cooking was unable to give him the tranquility he so desperately needed. Sanji was slowly losing his mind. His nerves were becoming so frayed. He was going through cigarettes like rabbits go through mates. Lack of sleep made his hands shake when he tried to chop vegetables, and his exhausted muscles could no longer hold the cigarettes in his mouth.

So when Sanji dropped his cigarette butt in the soup he was making on a day when he had already almost chopped off his finger, Sanji snapped. His face flushed red as he shoved his hand into the scalding pot to pull out the cigarette. The flesh on his hand felt afire, but in his irrational anger he ignored it. He grabbed something long and soft and pulled it out, expecting it to be the cigarette.

"A carrot." Sanji let the small slice of carrot lay on his palm before he threw it across the room. "A fucking carrot."

He reached into the pot again, but for the life of him could not find- "Where is the fucking cigarette?"

Suddenly, he picked the pot up and off the stove, screaming wordlessly, and he threw it across the kitchen. It smashed into the wall, the soup smearing across it like blood. An image flashed in Sanji's mind. _Zoro's blood_.

He screamed again, struggling to forget. He grabbed whatever was near him- a knife, a spatula- and threw them as hard as he could. The knife embedded itself in the table, and the spatula flopped nearby. Sanji continued hurling stuff around the kitchen until everything was out of reach. He slumped to the floor, pulling his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He flicked the lighter. No light. He flicked it again and again and again. And still no fucking light. Sanji gave up trying to light it and instead threw it across the room.

Sanji stared at the unlit cigarette in his hand. The taste of nicotine was in his mouth. He was tired of it. The taste and smell of nicotine- usually a sedative- was making Sanji frustrated, irritated. Sanji was disgusted with himself for resorting to a drug rather than dealing with this situation. This past week, Sanji had been avoiding thinking about Zoro, or rather admitting that he _was _thinking about Zoro. Sanji had never taken the time to consider Zoro and what the other man had said. Not only had he been running from Zoro, but Sanji had also been running from these unexpected feelings. He realized this suddenly, knowing that this would be the moment that he needed to understand why he was so obsessed and fascinated with Zoro. If he stayed here on the kitchen floor, Sanji could work through all his shit. If he stayed.

Sanji stood up abruptly and rushed out of the galley. He wasn't ready for that. He was still so scared to uncover whatever might be under all this irrationality. Instead, Sanji stormed down to the boys' quarters, briskly passing Usopp on the stairs. He heard Usopp mutter about Sanji's problems, but Sanji didn't care. He was riffling through his stuff. From pant pockets and the backs of shelves, Sanji pulled his packs of cigarettes out. By the time he had gathered them all, Sanji's arms were completely full. Then he was rushing back up the stairs, pushing past Usopp once again. He knew that getting rid of his smokes would make him think about them and not Zoro.

His mind was blank when he ran to the railing and tipped the packs of cigarettes over and into the sea. He didn't think about it as he turned away after hearing a light splash. He didn't think about it until he reached into his jacket pocket for a smoke only to find an empty pocket.

"Shit," he whispered, looking about the ship. No one was looking his way. "Why did I do that?"


	10. Part X: Pathetic

It had only been a day, and already Sanji's fixation on Zoro was lessening but not extinct. Except withdrawal was making Sanji want to tear his eyeballs out. He was cursing himself every minute for being such an idiot. He had given up trying to make sense of it. This was the exact same way he had felt when he had originally lost them. There was this consuming need for something to fill the pain of withdrawal. It was fucking irritating that he had purposely placed himself in that position. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something by making him completely vulnerable? Or was Sanji going insane?

He honestly hoped it was the latter. Sanji didn't want to be vulnerable.

It was late at night. The crew had gone to bed. Sanji had tried to do that, too, it seemed like he was developing chronic insomnia. So now he was lying on his back on the table in the galley. The lights were out, and the table was hard and uncomfortable, but if Sanji were able to fall asleep anywhere it would be in here. Even through the over-powering need for nicotine, Sanji was still thinking about Zoro. Those thoughts were muted now, but everything that had conspired between him and Zoro was still replaying in his mind. Sanji didn't know what that meant exactly; he never spent this much worrying about anything under normal circumstances when he could assuage emotions. And when he was going through withdrawal nothing should take precedence over a need for nicotine.

Somebody was walking on the deck just outside the galley door. Sanji could hear the deep clunk of their boots. Nobody else walked like that. The footsteps stopped and were replaced by a soft shifting noise and then a light plunk. Zoro was just on the other side of the wall, and Sanji wanted to avoid drawing attention to himself. Sanji didn't want Zoro to walk into the galley and see him. If Zoro only knew the torment Sanji was in every time he saw the swordsman and how badly it was affecting him. Sanji waited to hear the tell-tale snore before he decided he should sneak past Zoro and to his actual bed. He just hoped that he could fall asleep when he got there.

He crept out of the galley, sneaking a glance back at the sleeping swordsman. Zoro looked so peaceful, like nothing could disturb him at this moment. Sanji wished he could sleep like that. But instead he couldn't stop thinking about this man, and he couldn't stop thinking about nicotine. Both obsessions were just underneath his skin, prickling at prodding. Sanji had an urge to kick the swordsman. Zoro should be the one in emotional turmoil, not Sanji. But here they were: Zoro in peace and Sanji in hell. _It isn't fair_, Sanji thought. Zoro needed to know that.

He lashed out viciously, striking Zoro in the head with his foot. As much as he didn't want another confrontation, Sanji wanted to scream at the swordsman. "Wake up, you shithead." Sanji kicked him again. Why he could not say, but he just wanted Zoro to wake up so Sanji could kick and hit him again and again. The snoring stopped, but Zoro still made no sign that he was awake.

Sanji kicked out again. "Stupid, mother-fucking Zoro." Zoro's hand shot out and tightened on Sanji's ankle. His eyes were still closed, but he pulled on the leg. Sanji fell with a thud.

"What do you want, Sanji?" His voice was broken, and when Zoro opened his eyes Sanji wanted to cry. Such a deep absence of emotion was in those eyes, and that was worse than the ache Sanji had seen earlier. To realize that Zoro had shut out the world and his pain tore Sanji even further apart. There was something utterly decimating about numbness. He wanted to apologize again, but he didn't know how. He just wanted to vent out his own feelings.

"I want you to stop it."

"It?" Zoro said. A flicker of emotions crossed his face. Sanji didn't know what they meant.

"This." Sanji gesticulated at nothing. He was merely waving his arms about to make a point. "This bullshit that you're putting me through."

"I'm putting _you_ through bullshit?" Zoro said. He laughed. It was bitter, dry, and full of menace.

"Yes. Yes, you are." Sanji stood up, trying to appear calm, but instead was quivering with the rage he had built up over a week. He brushed the dirt off his pants in an attempt to avoid looking at Zoro for if he did, he might not be able to hold up his charade. "You're being a fucking insensitive prick."

"_I'm _the prick?" Zoro was standing now, too.

"Yeah, shit-swordsman," Sanji said. He now looked up into Zoro's hardened, numb eyes. "You're being a bastard about this whole shitty situation. You go around as calm and carefree as any other fucker while I'm stuck screaming and making a mess. And it's not fair."

"I'm not carefree," Zoro whispered, a trace of the pain breaking through into his voice. Sanji heard but ignored it. Zoro still seemed so numb. It was pissing Sanji off. He didn't want Zoro to be numb. Zoro should be crying and pouting like a normal human would.

"Then how come you're able to sit here and sleep like a fucking baby? Is that your stupid swordsman's training and self-control?" Zoro didn't answer. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in over a week, because I can't find a way stop this bullshit. But you, Zoro, haven't even tried to stop it. You haven't made any effort to show that you're hurting too, which makes me feel like an idiot for worrying and whining over you. You've only made this shit worse by being a fucking pussy."

"Well aren't you the bitchy one?" Zoro growled. "You're the bastard here, Sanji. This is the second time you've approached me only to pick a fight. I tried to fix it, remember? I apologized for putting you in this situation, but you ignored that, and just tried to fuck me over. You don't even care about what's going on with anyone else. You're being such a selfish bastard."

"And what about you? You push your feelings onto people who don't want to hear them. Then you expect something from them," Sanji said. He had stopped thinking about what he said a while ago. Now it was just the unconscious, unexpressed feelings that Sanji was saying. He was just so angry and tired that he had stopped caring about being an ass. His momentum was venting and yelling, and there was no way to stop it. "I never asked for you to love me. And I certainly didn't want to hear about it."

Zoro's features darkened, and his hand drifted down to the swords at his side. "I thought I could trust you. I thought that afterwards-"

"You were a distraction. Withdrawal makes you do crazy shit. I don't even think about that anymore," Sanji lied. A blatant lie, because it was all he'd been able to think about. Sanji was finally starting to accept it, but saying it out loud would make it true. And it _couldn't _be true.

"If that's the case then why you dream about it?" Sanji opened his mouth to ask how he knew, but Zoro must have read his mind. "You talk in your sleep."

"Have you watched me more than just that one time?" Sanji said. In the pit of his stomach, butterflies were flying. He felt sick. He sneered. "Do you like what you see? Do you watch me a lot?"

"I-" Zoro's voice broke. He swallowed back whatever overwhelming emotion he was feeling. "Yeah. I've been watching you off and on for awhile now."

"Even before all this shit happened?" Zoro nodded. Sanji couldn't control what he was saying. He was so scared and disgusted. Zoro was acting like he actually was in love with Sanji. That was wrong and shouldn't be true. There was no way a man could really _love_ another man. "Jesus, you really are a fucking fag-"

"Don't say it." In the blink of an eye, Zoro had drawn his sword and was pressing it against Sanji's neck. Sanji instinctively brought his leg up so that his foot was pressed into Zoro's chest. Zoro's hand was shaking. Sanji worried that the swordsman's hand might slip even a little and accidentally nick his jugular. "I know what I am, okay? I understand that I'm a fucking f-faggot. But hearing it from your lips makes it sound so much worse than it actually is. If you say it again, I might lose it and everything else I've been working for."

Sanji wasn't quite sure if that meant Zoro was considering suicide. He hoped and prayed that he wasn't, because Sanji didn't know how he could handle that. Knowing that he was the cause of that. But it was so uncharacteristic of Zoro that he doubted Zoro would ever kill himself. He would either die in the struggle to reach his goal or just of old age. That was how it should be. Sanji was being such an asshole, and he knew it. But being an asshole was better than being a coward. _Right?_

"I'm sorry," Sanji whispered. His heart was beating his chest as though it had been waiting for this moment for years. Sanji's lungs tightened and he didn't know what else to say. Zoro pulled the sword away, slowly, and then sheathed it. Sanji couldn't bring himself to lower his foot, though. He both wanted to touch Zoro and make sure Zoro couldn't touch him. His leg was a barrier and a connection. And this need for both of those things was driving him crazy.

God, Sanji wanted a cigarette right now more than anything.

"You should be," Zoro said. He stepped back, causing Sanji to lower his leg. Zoro crossed his arms and stared at Sanji. There was a moment of silence. _Say something, goddammit,_ Sanji told himself, _so this isn't so fucking awkward_. Zoro beat him to breaking the silence. "Don't expect forgiveness. Nothing you say is going to make this better."

"I know. I just wish we could forget this ever happened."

Zoro laughed, cynicism oozing. "I thought that was your plan. Didn't you tell me to pretend like none of it ever happened? Wasn't that your plan to deal with this? What happened, Sanji? I'm trying to move on. I understood what you said and that you meant it. I had to fucking accept the fact that there was no chance at all for anything. Ever again. I'm trying to move on. But every time I see you, you're always doing something stupid. I don't know why, but nothing you do makes sense. It doesn't match what you said you wanted. If you want to forget, forget."

"It's not that easy."

"Easy? You think it's easy for me?" Zoro said. "Trust me when I say that I'm in a hell of a lot more pain than you are and I'm _trying_ to get through it. You've given up."

"No, I haven't. I'm just not sure what to do."

"Not sure what to do? Jesus, what do you need to do?" Even in the dark, Sanji could see how red Zoro's face was getting. "Why are you here? What do you even want?"

Sanji knew that he knew the answer; that it was lingering in the back of his mind, except he couldn't remember what it was. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't know how to say it. Say whatever it was. His whole being was shaking under the effort of not knowing what to say. The barriers around his mind seemed to be crumbling away, revealing whatever it was that had been trapped there. But he couldn't have said what was there. "I don't know."

"You don't know. You. Don't. Know." Sanji nodded. "Do you want to forget? Do you want your fucking cigarettes to feed your addiction? I bet you want Nami. Do you want her begging for you to touch her, for you to fawn over her? Or Robin? Or both of them? Is that what you want?"

Sanji's mouth was dry. "Sanji, do you want to fight me? Every time we meet, do you want to hit and kick as though we aren't nakama, but mere shipmates? Do you want me to hate you? Or you hate me? Do you even want anything, or are you such a fucking coward that you aren't going to even admit to wanting anything for fear that some shit will happen again that you can't deal with?"

He had always known Zoro was fast, but never like this. Because one moment he had been several feet away from him, and the next he was pinned against the wall. Zoro's palm was against Sanji's chest right at the base of the sternum, pressing so hard that Sanji's lungs couldn't expand. He couldn't breathe properly at a time when he really needed oxygen. Zoro had leaned in- Sanji had expected a kiss- but instead Zoro went to the side so that his lips were touching Sanji's ear and the breath was hot on his neck. Sanji's heart sped up, and his lungs struggled for air. Zoro pressed in even harder.

"Or is this what you want, Sanji?" Zoro whispered. His lips were soft and light as they moved. Such a sharp contrast to the pain. "Is this why you threw away all your cigarettes, so that you would have an excuse to use me as a distraction? Do you want a distraction? I can give you one of those. I'll touch, lick, bite, and fuck you senseless if that's all you want."

Lack of oxygen was making Sanji lightheaded. He couldn't think or speak. He just shook his head. "So you don't want a distraction. Do you want me? The sex? Didn't you say it was amazing? If that's all I'm good for, why can't you stop thinking about me?"

Sanji was just losing consciousness when the pressure on his chest lightened and then disappeared all together. There was a sudden rush of air into his lungs. "You say it's unfair that I'm able to be calm while you go completely crazy. I'm not calm, Sanji. But I'm doing something about it. I'm trying while you're the one being a pussy. You don't give a damn about anyone other than yourself. You protect your interests as you refuse to admit the truth. You're scared about this. You're so terrified that somebody might find out, and then you'll be ruined. You think that Luffy and this crew will get rid of you if they find out you fucked a man. Sanji, look around at us. Luffy is the most open and accepting person in the world. You know that."

"And you say you want to forget. Forget? You should accept that it happened, deal with it, and then you can move on. Except you're trying so hard to forget that it's tearing you apart. You aren't the type of person to just forget. You aren't some fucking coward." Zoro took a breath. He was barely speaking above a whisper, but those soft sounds were full of malice and criticism. "I know you feel bad about what you said. And you should. But I don't know why, even after you apologized, it's eating you up as it is. But it is, and I, who knows you better than anyone, can see that you're in pain. Why are you refusing to admit that? Why hide from it?"

Zoro had slowed his speech. "This isn't the man I fell in love with. You're pathetic."

There were tears in his eyes as he walked away. He moved down the steps and across the deck. Sanji watched him, breathing heavily, until the swordsman was out of sight. Then he turned, hands shaking fervently. Sanji stepped inside the galley. He was in shock. Zoro's words were echoing in his mind. Repeating over and over until they stopped making sense and were just a string of sounds.

He put his hand to his head. This was too much to take in, and Sanji was still having trouble understanding it all. He breathed in slowly. His chest still hurt, and Sanji hoped that Zoro hadn't broken anything. Even if he deserved it.

He shuffled over to the cupboard to pull out a glass. But when he went to fill it up something was already in the sink. There was a note written in flowery, flowing handwriting that Sanji recognized as Robin's.

_You dropped these. _

Sanji looked under the note to see what she was referring to. It was a pack of cigarettes. Sanji leapt for them hungrily. In a flash he had lit one and was puffing on the end of it. He looked at the note again.

_P.S._

_ I hope you really want this._

"I do," he whispered. It was an instantaneous reaction brought about by the need to defend himself. He knew that he didn't want this- whatever the fuck this was. Nobody would want this hell Sanji was in. But he was putting himself through it anyway. Sanji just didn't want to admit that he wasn't doing what he wanted. Couldn't let himself admit to it. That would mean he was doing the wrong thing, and the only wrong thing he could admit to so far was that he called Zoro a faggot.

Sanji gathered the note, pack of cigarettes, and his glass of water as he slumped to the floor. He leaned back against the cabinet, the handle digging uncomfortably into his neck. He could have moved to avoid the dull pain, but it was a pleasant distraction from the ache in his chest. It was starting to hurt more. Whether that was from Zoro or his own foolish torment, he could not say.

He brought the note up so he could read it again. What the hell was Robin talking about? Why the hell wouldn't he be doing what he wanted? Sanji wasn't a fucking masochist like Zoro, not one to put himself through unnecessary pain just because there was a slim chance that he might gain something at the end of it. His current actions were the only method he could see to dealing with this fucked up situation he'd been cursed with. And he couldn't see what there was to gain from it.

"I hope you really want this," Sanji read aloud. _This, _he thought, _is nothing. There is no _this. _This doesn't exist, because this isn't something that could actually happen. A mistake, a series of mistakes between me and Zoro_. "Dumbass Zoro. Fucking marimo bastard."

Whatever shit he was going through was Zoro's fault. Sanji could have dealt with having sex with Zoro. That was easy to blame on withdrawal and the closeness of another person. Both men were at fault for that incident. It could have passed easily, leaving the two men slightly awkward but easily dealt with. They could have let it slide after quick apologies and the promise to forget. Except Zoro had to go and confess a secreted love, creating a much more difficult problem. And leaving Sanji totally unprepared for how to deal with it. And unable to forget.

_Stupid swordsman_, Sanji thought. He had pushed his problems on Sanji without any thinking about what they would do to him. Zoro had assumed he was gay and his flirtatious behaviour had all been a charade to hide his sexuality from everyone. That had been a big mistake, because there was no way in hell Sanji was gay. He loved women, lived for their pleasure. _Except I went and fucked a man_. How did that work into his self-perception?

"It doesn't mean I'm gay. Not some fucking faggot like him." There was something in the back of his mind telling him he was wrong. It was pointing out all the reasons why Zoro would think that. His immaculate appearance, incredible sense of style, his obsession with cleanliness, a habit of collecting different aprons. There were all these subtle details that could easily be explained if Sanji were homosexual. Or at least bisexual. "I'm not, of course, though."

_And I know that for a fact, so, stupid marimo, I'm not running away from it_. Sanji wasn't a coward. He had earned his 77 million  bounty by facing everything head on. He was doing the same here. _Right?_ Because it wasn't like Sanji had ignored this completely. He'd apologized and was trying to move on. Just because he couldn't confront Zoro in any other way than by starting a fight _didn't_ mean that was afraid of a serious conversation. And so what if he hadn't taken the time to sit down and sort through his feelings? Throwing his cigarettes overboard just so he could stop thinking about the damn swordsman and all these conflicting emotions certainly did _not_ mean he was a coward. It was just one of those things he couldn't deal with. Didn't want to deal with.

What Sanji didn't want was to be sitting on the galley floor in the middle of the night with Zoro's words plaguing his mind. He didn't want this guilt weighing down upon his shoulders. Nor did he want to think about how good it had felt to be physically close to the swordsman again. Even if Zoro was trying to make a point in the only sadistic, fucked up way he knew how to. Sanji hadn't even been able to continue that contact. He hadn't _tried_ to keep that physical closeness.

"I'm an idiot. A big fucking idiot." Sanji knocked his head back into the cabinet. He did it again. "Zoro was right. I'm a coward. So fucking scared about what might actually happen if I take the time to sit down and sort through this shit. Or to wonder why the hell I'm still thinking about him."

He closed his eyes and tried to relax so he could actually figure this shit out. Even though he had accepted that he really was a coward and that he was thinking about the swordsman, he still didn't know why. It was there in the back of his brain just beyond walls he hadn't known he'd built. Barriers that Sanji had probably always ignored so that he could go on living this empty, lonely life. And now they were beginning to crack. Sanji could almost visualize what was happening: a brick wall slowly splitting and crumbling revealing a necessary portion of Sanji's being.

The tears were trickling down his cheeks, dropping off his chin onto Robin's note before he realized what he was doing. Sanji was crying again. Twice he had done this. Before it was because of the pent up guilt and overwhelming loneliness. Now it was for those reasons and others.

"Because Zoro was right when he said I was an ass and selfish and a prick. And because it's not fair to him that I bitch when it's my own fault," he said between sobs. "Or that I hid myself behind all these excuses just so I didn't have to face the truth. That I'm a lonely son of a bitch who can't stop remembering how good it felt to fall asleep in his arms. And how much it hurts to be told I'm pathetic and not the man he loves."

Sanji was crying harder, unable to stop the flood that had been building. He couldn't understand why anyone would love him, especially in the state he was in now. Now that he was in this black-hole of self-pity that was threatening to drag in everything that Sanji had created for himself. It was taking his sense of self, his love of cooking, the control he had so carefully crafted over the years. It was replacing all of that with a pathetic, coward who couldn't even figure out what he wanted.

He looked at Robin's note again.

_P.S._

_ I hope you really want this._

"I don't," Sanji whispered. It was barely audible. But he had said it aloud even though the thought hadn't consciously formed. That wall crumbled, and his unconscious was flooding his conscious with that previously unanswerable question. He wanted this to end. This fucked up situation needed to end. And soon. Before the damage he'd caused was un-reparable and Zoro threw away any feelings he had. "I don't want him to stop loving me."

Images flashed through Sanji's mind. _Zoro was kissing him, and Sanji was kissing him back. Zoro was whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Sanji panting, his forehead pressing into Zoro's chest as the other man thrust into him._ _Sanji was letting Zoro hold him tightly as they drifted to sleep, both in complete peace._ Possibilities if he could just turn this around. "I want that."

Tears continued streaming down Sanji's cheeks. The hollowness and worthlessness he had felt earlier, though, was being replaced by a gentle tranquility. As he cried, it was relief that filled him. He kept crying, so many tears that Sanji didn't know he had.

At some point, Sanji fell asleep. His dead cigarette fell out from his lips as muscles relaxed. He was no longer able to maintain his upright position, and he steadily began to slide down the cabinet. He lay on the hard kitchen floor, curled tightly in a ball. His fingers were still tightly gripping Robin's note as though even in sleep he wanted to hold onto that reminder of what he wanted.

Morning came, dawn light shining through the window. Its honey rays fell across Sanji's face, waking Sanji. Eyelids fluttered open. A groan escaped from lips. Sanji turned over so that he faced away from the sun. The morning light still filled the galley, but it fell short of where Sanji was. The cook was asleep again in a dreamless, blissful state. There were no tormented thoughts penetrating his sleep. It was pure and deep, and it felt like the first time in forever that he had been able to sleep like this.


	11. Part XI: Redux

Waking up was more difficult than Sanji reckoned it would be. After his night of impossibly peaceful rest, it was a slow trial and test of his will to push back unconsciousness. He knew he was awake, could feel the difference in sensation- numb to acute- but he was reluctant to fully acknowledge it yet. He kept his eyes shut tight, telling himself that if they stayed closed, perhaps, he could fall back to sleep. It had been such a deep sleep that Sanji wished had never ended. The pain from the previous night had drifted away, and as long as Sanji didn't open his eyes, everything else would drift away, too. As much as he didn't want to, Sanji knew he had to open them and face the day, because Sanji wasn't running away anymore.

Sanji found himself in darkness, a pitch-black that was different from the moonlit galley he had fallen asleep in. The different environment startled him, but presently he recognized the feel of knotted rope beneath him. Sanji arched his back into the hammock as he stretched his muscles into awakening. He let his body sag into the hammock, resisting the lingering pull of sleep. Slowly his thoughts gathered, and Sanji wondered why the hell he lay in his hammock when he distinctly remembered falling asleep on the kitchen floor.

_Someone must have brought me down here,_ he thought. A list of suspects ran through his head. Neither Nami nor Robin could lift or bring him below deck. Usopp would probably come down with an inexplicable I-can't-carry-Sanji-downstairs-disease. Brooke didn't have any muscle mass. Luffy and Franky could carry him, but both were more likely make fun of him for sleeping in the galley. Chopper could if he transformed, but the tiny doctor was more likely to take him to the infirmary.

That only left Zoro, who- in Sanji's mind- would be completely unwilling to bring him here after all the shit that Sanji had done and said to him. But under these circumstances, Zoro made the most sense.

"He must have come back to the kitchen to find me," Sanji whispered into the darkness. If that were true and Zoro had carried Sanji down here, then Zoro didn't completely hate him after last night- after every cruel thing Sanji had done. He still cared enough to bring Sanji down here to his hammock. Sanji wondered if it was because Zoro knew how tired he had been, how little rest the cook had gotten, and how much last night's sleep had healed Sanji. "Or maybe…he just didn't want to trip over me for when he wanted his morning booze."

Sanji sincerely hoped it was not the latter. The first answer seemed much more promising, because if Zoro had gone back for him, he still cared about Sanji. And if he still cared, well, then Sanji would have a chance to tell him everything. Explain to Zoro why exactly Sanji had struggled to survive in a hell of his own making. Let Zoro know that Sanji never again wanted to see the swordsman in as much emotional pain as he was currently in. Tell Zoro how sorry he was for being such a fucking idiot. Ask for the forgiveness he didn't deserve.

It would take time, though, Sanji knew. Because nothing Sanji could say would fix any of this immediately. If it were still possible to fix. That all depended on the former assumption- that Zoro had entered the galley for Sanji. Last night had been Sanji's third chance, and he had failed at redemption. Miserably. Zoro didn't seem the type to give second chances, but he had given Sanji three. Sanji couldn't see a fourth one in sight if Zoro's only reason in bringing Sanji down to the boys' quarters was to free up the kitchen so that he could get drunk in privacy.

This was all assuming, of course, that Zoro indeed was the one to bring Sanji down here. It was quite possible that Sanji was completely wrong about this, and Robin had conjured multiple feet or Chopper had decided he wasn't in need of medical attention. One of them could have carried him to his hammock. It wasn't necessarily Zoro, but there was an ache in his chest that told him that Zoro had brought him down. It reassured Sanji that Zoro did care, and there was hope.

But then he remembered the look in Zoro's eyes, and the way they burned with latent tears. That same ache reeked of guilt and self-disgust. He saw himself through Zoro's eyes- a selfish, pathetic creature that refused to look outside of oneself for just a moment and see things truly. With that image in mind, Sanji wondered how Zoro could have ever loved him. Or whoever he had been, because Zoro certainly couldn't love him now. Because Sanji had been such a mother-fucking prick, and nobody on earth should love someone like that.

The ache grew deeper with an emotion Sanji couldn't name. And it wasn't like before, when he had known what he wanted but just didn't know how to say it. Sanji had no idea what this was; only that it compelled him to find a way to achieve Zoro's forgiveness. As unlikely as that was.

He pushed away the urge to cry yet again. Now was a time for resolve, not for more selfish tears. Now was the moment when Sanji needed to get his ass out of the hammock and onto the deck and do whatever he needed to do to make this shit work.

Sanji scrambled out of the hammock and found the overhead light switch. He flicked it on. Sanji hurriedly put on clean clothes, straightened out his hair, and shoved his feet into his shoes. Then out the door and up the stairs into what Sanji recognized as the afternoon sun. The light blinded him temporarily, so he was unable to see Luffy running towards him.

"Sanji's up!" Luffy yelled, leaping into the air and bowling his chef over. One of Luffy's currently flailing body parts hit his chest right at the sternum, and Sanji grimaced. Sanji had a feeling there was a bruise there roughly the size of Zoro's palm. "Chopper wouldn't let me wake you up. Nami and Robin made breakfast and lunch, but they promised me you would be up in time to make a snack and then dinner. And I'm really hungry. Lots of meat?"

Sanji used his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Yeah, sure, Luffy. Just get off of me, and I'll start."

Luffy grinned and leapt up, drool already forming at the corner of his mouth. Sanji wondered just what kind of meal the captain was imagining. He scooted around Luffy and headed for the galley. He glanced around the deck of the ship cautiously, praying that the swordsman was both there and not there. Zoro wasn't on deck, but Chopper and Usopp were and they waved heartily at him as Sanji ducked into the galley.

The galley wasn't exactly empty like one would suppose at this hour. None of the crew were in there, but the table, counter, and sink were full. Filled with the dishes from a breakfast and lunch that no one had bothered to clean up after. Some fuckers- most likely Usopp and Luffy- hadn't offered to clean up after his lovely Robin and Nami cooked- what Sanji supposed- a passable meal. There was no sign that any effort to clean the kitchen had been made, and Sanji had been left with the impossible task of cooking in this disaster zone.

"Fuckin' a," Sanji said. He usually washed the dishes immediately after he used them so that the food didn't stick. Sometimes when he was in a hurry, he set some dishes in the sink while he cooked, and then scrubbed later. "But this is complete shit," he said as he looked in the sink at a mixing bowl with crusty batter plastered to its sides. The plates on the table were covered in hardened syrup, and it would take a hell of a lot of time to soak out.

It took a lot of effort for Sanji to ignore the mess for the moment and concentrate on cooking something before Luffy barged in and only made things worse. Sanji was surprised Luffy hadn't already tried to cook something for himself already, considering what it looked like Nami had served them- pancakes. It was the only thing she could make, and for a meat-craving Devil-fruit user, it wasn't terribly satisfying. Clearing the table, he noticed a bowl half-full of syrup and wondered if Luffy had tried to sate his hunger by eating syrup plain. It seemed like something his idiot captain might do.

Sanji shoved away an OCD moment and started on the snack- brownies and two hunks of meat for Luffy. It was quick to make and created relatively little mess. And while they baked he could begin cleaning up the mess his crew had made in here.

"Stupid Luffy and Usopp and Franky," Sanji said, naming probable culprits. "No one else on this ship is as messy as those three. Nami and Robin are angels, and Chopper knows how important being neat is, because the infirmary is never cluttered. The fuckers."

He began organizing the dishes on the counter- the pots and pans, the bowls, the silverware- so that when Sanji actually had the time to go through them all it would be slightly faster. Sanji was barely able to get through the silverware when the oven dinged, alerting Sanji that the brownies were done. He switched the brownie pan with the meat and began arranging the brownies on a plate. That was easily done, and he brought it out onto the deck along with the now finished meat. The crew swarmed around the plate, and Sanji quickly ducked back into the galley to avoid being trampled.

He locked the door behind him so that Luffy couldn't come in and demand more, because Sanji didn't have time to do so if he was going to get dinner on the table any time soon. Sanji surveyed his kitchen, inwardly groaning. No matter what he made, the size of the pile of dirty dishes would only increase. So he might as well go all out and not worry about the mess whatever he might make would cause.

He had no idea, though, what he should make.

Something delicious to make up for half a day of Nami's cooking. Something unusual. Something he hadn't made in a long while. Something that Zoro liked, because that would be the first step to getting his forgiveness.

"What the hell does Zoro like?" Sanji asked himself. The swordsman rarely complimented Sanji's cooking; he rarely complimented anything Sanji did, so Sanji had no idea what he was supposed to make for him. He knew that Zoro liked his food- who wouldn't?- but Sanji wanted to make something special without it appearing too special. "He liked the scalloped potatoes I made that one time. I think. He's probably tired of fish, and pasta doesn't seem special enough."

Sanji opened the cupboard in which he kept his cookbooks and glanced at them, hoping that he might find an idea there. _Italian Food Made Easy, Hispanic Recipes, The Ultimate Barbeque Handbook, The Beginner's Guide to Sushi_.

"Sushi," Sanji said, pulling the book off the shelf. Zoro would like sushi. Sanji went back into the storeroom to make sure he had plenty of rice. Then he hurried out of the galley and yelled to Luffy, Usopp, Chopper, and anyone else who might be listening. "Oi, go bring me any eel, tuna, crab, squid, and shrimp we have in the fish tank. If we don't have it, catch some. Oh, and I need as much seaweed as you can find."

Luffy opened his mouth to say something, but Sanji shot him a death glare and yelled, "Just do it!"

They ran below deck to take care of that, and Sanji went back into the galley to begin cooking the rice. Sushi might take awhile to make, but it was worth it if it would make Zoro smile. He wanted to see the stupid swordsman smile because of something Sanji did. Maybe one smile could erase one moment of pain Zoro had felt. Sanji hoped that he could make the sushi well enough to have that happen.

Franky and Luffy entered with the fish and seaweed and Sanji gestured to the counter for them to put it down. He shooed them out of the kitchen and began working. He had to skin the fish, cut it, strip the seaweed, and roll it and the rice all together. Sanji worked as fast as he could, leaving the dishes on the counter to clean after dinner. That would be a pain in the ass, but at least it would give him more time to plan how he might approach Zoro and apologize.

Already Sanji was thinking about how he would have to take things slow. He would need to wait for a moment when Zoro was alone and in a comfortable environment. Maybe when he was training on deck Sanji could approach him. Strike up a casual conversation. Or would it be better to just apologize outright, because if Sanji wasn't careful, Zoro might get defensive and start arguing again. Sanji didn't have enough self-control to not fight if Zoro started something. And Sanji didn't have enough humility to back down.

"Yeah," Sanji said to himself. "I should just apologize and let Zoro take control of the conversation from there. I shouldn't mention my…feelings yet."

Sanji didn't want to face the outright rejection yet. He could wait until Zoro forgave him to let Zoro know how he felt. That would have been a smart thing to do anyway, because Sanji wasn't quite sure what it was he was feeling. This was a whole new territory for him; Sanji had never needed to take things slowly for fear that he would cause someone pain or cause himself pain. Everyone Sanji had ever chased- except Nami and Robin- had given themselves without much effort.

Except Sanji hadn't really cared for them. He cared for Zoro on some indescribable level. Sanji was ready to wait for Zoro to forgive him. He would stay away from Zoro until both men could sort this out. There was no reason for Sanji to rush things. He was going to wait.

Sanji glanced outside through the galley window. The sun was already setting, and Sanji still needed to fry the squid for the calamari he was going to put atop the sushi. He groaned and turned on a burner, covering his last clean pan in vegetable oil. Sanji shoved his thoughts aside as he hurried to set the table and get the meal on it. All the sushi rolls were neatly organized on platters and he scattered them around the table. He had made two extra plates of baked fish for Luffy so that he wouldn't eat all of the rolls.

He opened the door to call the crew in, but the majority of them were already lined up, and Sanji had to step aside to avoid being trampled. Nami and Robin oohed and aahed at the elaborate layout of the sushi. Sanji flirted appropriately, but his heart wasn't in it as he watched Zoro walk into the room. Sanji searched Zoro's face for any sign that he was pleased with Sanji's choice of meal. He didn't see any recognition in Zoro's onyx eyes, and Sanji looked away, an unpleasant ache forming in his heart.

Everyone sat down and began passing the plates around, sharing the sushi in a family style. Sanji played the part of the incredible cook while still keeping an eye on Zoro. The swordsman was near silent, only speaking when he wanted something passed to him or somebody asked him a question. Sanji hoped for some sign from the swordsman that he liked the food, but dinner ended and none had come. The crew began filtering out of the room- Luffy, Usopp, Franky, Chopper and Brook all leaving. Zoro was halfway out the door when Robin spoke.

"Cook-san," she said. She was staring at the dish-filled sink. "It seems that navigator-san and I were being irresponsible earlier when we didn't clean up after ourselves. Surely you would like some help with these."

Sanji didn't know where she was going with this- whether she was being genuine or subtly mischievous- but he smiled widely. "Robin-chwan, I am touched that you are worried about me, but I would not want your delicate hands to become pruney after dishwashing."

The corners of Robin's mouth turned up it what some would call a sadistic smile, but the historian was far too honest for such a thing. "Of course. Swordsman-san will help you, though."

With those words Zoro froze, and Sanji could see every muscle in his body tense. Nami and Robin stood slowly and sauntered out of the room, leaving Zoro and Sanji alone. Sanji could feel his heart stop when Robin leaned in and whispered something into Zoro's ear. Zoro seemed to relax slightly, but the tension in his body and in the room was still thick.

Zoro began to turn around, and Sanji, trying to avoid the other man's stare, forced himself to look away. He began gathering the dishes on the table. He hoped Zoro would be able to figure out what needed to be done, because Sanji wasn't sure his vocal chords were going to work. Sanji tried not to pay any attention to the swordsman, but it was hard. His eyes kept wanted to watch Zoro as he leaned across the table- as his long body stretched. It took all the will power Sanji had to move away from the Zoro and to the sink where he would begin washing the dishes.

The only sound in the galley was the running of water, the clink of dishes, and Zoro's heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. Sanji listened as Zoro walked from the table to the counter and back, bringing the dishes from the table with him. Sanji tried to work as fast as he could to clean. He placed the wet dishes on the rack by the sink. Soon, the rack was filled, and Sanji had to switch to drying the ones he had just washed. It was a slow process of washing then drying in order to keep the rack clear.

And then Zoro was taking a plate out from Sanji's hand and picking up the towel. Silently, he began drying them. Sanji swallowed and turned the faucet back on. A pattern formed between them of scrubbing and then drying, the two men working in quiet synchronization.

Sanji was pushing back the lump that had formed in his throat so that he could actually concentrate. Zoro was only inches from him, and if Sanji had wanted to he could reach out and touch the swordsman. Every nerve in his body propelled him to that action, but Sanji fought against it, reminding himself that he had to take this slowly. He could wait for forgiveness and the chance for something more. Running into this would only make things worse.

Sanji handed Zoro a glass. The swordsman took it, and Sanji chanced a glance at the other man. Zoro was staring straight at the wall. His jaw was set with his bottom teeth pressed tightly to top teeth. Sanji looked away, afraid of the obvious pain he could see in Zoro's face. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to be forced into close company with the man who had stolen and then ripped out your heart. That ache reappeared in Sanji's chest, so overpowering that Sanji felt like he needed to cough to rid himself of it.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. He didn't know what Robin had hoped to accomplish with this forced closeness. It could be she thought all of this could be fixed with a quick conversation over a mutual dislike of cleaning. Or Robin really was the sadist Sanji had seen in that smile.

But no. She had written that note for Sanji. With one sentence she had helped Sanji realize what it was he wanted. What he didn't want. That he wanted Zoro to forgive him. That he didn't want Zoro to hate him. That he wanted Zoro to love him once more. That he didn't want to be alone anymore, and he wanted Zoro to be the one to help him with that.

The silence continued, expanding beyond the two men so that Sanji thought even Luffy out on deck had quieted down. Sanji couldn't hear anything other than the water and his own heavy heartbeat. It thumped in his chest arythmically, alternating between a quick pulse- when Zoro's fingers reached out to take away a wet plate- to slow and steady- when Zoro was turned away from him. The tension was slowly killing Sanji. His chest felt heavy, and the bruise on his sternum hurt.

Something trickled down his cheek and dripped off of his chin. In the quiet room, Sanji heard the soft plunk it made in the dishwater, and he realized he was crying. Which made no sense, because Sanji had no reason to cry. He had had reason to cry last night- relief. And the time before was because of loneliness. But now, how could Sanji explain the tears in his eyes and on his cheeks.

He choked back a sob, refusing to break the silence for such a reason. The tears continued to fall, and Sanji tried to ignore them. Next to him, Zoro made no sign that he knew Sanji was crying, but Sanji was positive the swordsman knew. The other man had lost some of the tension in his face, but in the set of his shoulders, Sanji could see that it still remained. And it would continue to remain unless Sanji did something to rid the other man of the pain he carried.

Sanji tried to open his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a garbled rasp that Sanji supposed was a severely repressed sob just now escaping. He closed his mouth, praying that Zoro hadn't heard him. Zoro most likely had, though, and Sanji mentally berated himself for being so careless. Sanji wasn't sure why he was being so careful and anxious about this situation; it wasn't like him to worry about what others thought of him, but here Sanji was so worried about improving Zoro's opinion of him.

Sanji turned to face Zoro, pointless phrases and words running through his mind. Nothing he thought of sounded right, but Sanji still needed to say something. Zoro's head turned slightly, just enough so that he was partially facing Sanji. Their eyes could have met if Zoro had looked at him, but the swordsman was still pointedly not looking at Sanji. Sanji looked over Zoro's face, his eyes settling on his lips. They were drawn into a tight, thin line. He remembered the way they felt on his own lips, on his skin.

He found himself leaning in towards the swordsman, stretching up so that he could reach Zoro. Zoro turned his head, surprise widening his eyes, and an emotion Sanji couldn't read crossed Zoro's face. Then Sanji had his lips pressed to Zoro's, gently, so that Sanji felt like a young girl kissing a childhood crush. His heart pounded in his chest in nervousness. Zoro froze. His lips remained taught and ungiving to Sanji's light kiss. A moment passed where Sanji had his lips against Zoro's and neither man moved.

Zoro made a noise halfway between a sigh and a growl and roughly broke away from Sanji. He met Sanji's gaze for a second then pulled away and fled the kitchen, leaving behind the plate he had been drying. It was precariously balanced on the edge, and when the door slammed, it fell and split upon the floor.

Sanji stared dumbly at the shards. They were white and stood out sharply upon the tan wooden floor. Sanji crouched down to pick them up, trying to ignore the voice inside his head that screamed at him. _What the fuck was that, _it yelled._ What happened it to playing this slow and waiting? Are you such a fuck-up that you can't even wait for this?_ Sanji refused to listen to it, knowing it was right, and he refused to cry again. It wasn't worth it anymore. He was done crying, just as he was done with this Zoro thing. He was a fuck-up, and nothing he did could fix this now. Sanji clenched his hand, the shard he held digging into his flesh. It bit through his skin, and Sanji focused on that pain and not the emotional one he felt.

_Kissing Zoro was the biggest mistake yet,_ Sanji thought. He looked up at the ceiling unblinkingly. He wasn't going to cry. It was time to deal with this regret and try to move on. Maybe one day in the far-flung future Sanji would be able to try again, but now he was royally fucked. Sanji opened the cupboard in which the trashcan was hid and began to throw away the shards of plate.

Behind him Sanji heard a noise, but, figuring it was the wind, Sanji didn't look back. Then he heard the door open and the clomp of boots, and Sanji slowly turned his head around, disbelieving what his mind was telling him. Zoro was standing in his kitchen, staring at the ground. The breath caught in Sanji's chest, and Sanji's muscles tensed up for the fight he was expecting.

Zoro looked up abruptly. His onyx eyes were hard and sharp, piercing through Sanji. He didn't know what that meant except that Zoro was determined. Sanji had seen that look on the battlefield, and Sanji wondered for a moment if Zoro had actually come to kill him. Then Zoro was walking toward him, heavy footsteps on the ground and heavy heart in Sanji's chest. When Zoro raised his hands, Sanji expected a fist to his face, and he closed his eyes in anticipation.

But those hands locked in Sanji's hair and pulled him into a kiss that Sanji hadn't expected at all.

"That's payback," Zoro whispered, breaking away. His voice was harsh. Sanji opened his eyes, meeting Zoro's gaze. "For kissing me when I was unprepared. That's all this was, especially if you were just fucking with me."

Sanji shook his head, unable to find the words to tell Zoro that he hadn't been fucking with him. His kiss, however spontaneous, had been in earnest. "No. I- I wasn't."

Zoro grabbed Sanji's wrist and squeezed tightly. "Are you lying to me?"

"No. I'm not." Zoro tightened his grip. Sanji winced. "I'm not!"

Zoro's gaze flitted over Sanji's face a moment before he released Sanji. "Good."

Silence fell between them once more. Sanji swallowed, feeling as though he should say something and explain himself. It was now or never to let Zoro know what had been going on inside Sanji's head.

"I thought about what you said. And I realized some things," Sanji said. Zoro gave him an inquisitive look that Sanji took to mean 'continue'. "Like that you were right, and I was being a prick. And that I was running away and being a fucking coward. And that-"

There was a large bang outside and then Luffy was yelling. Through the walls, Sanji was only able to hear the words 'meat', 'Zoro', and 'now', but Sanji got the idea. He took a step back from Zoro and looked at the other man. Zoro was watching him, a cautious look in his eyes.

"Luffy will probably-" Sanji began.

"I know," Zoro said. They stayed staring at each other. "We should probably talk sometime."

Sanji was a little surprised that _Zoro_ wanted to talk about emotions and feelings, but he understood that the man was just being practical under these circumstances. Sanji nodded. "I have watch tonight, so I'll be up. If that works for you."

Zoro nodded and turned to leave the galley. Sanji watched him go before hurrying to put together something that might sate Luffy. He glanced at the clock in the galley, wondering how much longer until the crew went to bed and Sanji could talk to the swordsman. He hoped that time would come soon, even though he had no idea what he would say to Zoro. Judging by the clock and his crew's usual schedule, Sanji had about three hours to figure out what to say.

Sanji gathered the things he was going to take to his nakama onto a platter, and pushed the galley door open.

--

It was later than Sanji had expected before everyone headed to bed. Luffy had decided that tonight was a good night for a party. Brook, Franky, Chopper, and Usopp had heartily agreed, of course, but it was a surprise when Robin and Zoro supported this idea as well. Sanji took it as a sign that Zoro was feeling better and lent his cooking skills to the night's festivities in the joy he felt at this. Perhaps he hadn't completely fucked things up.

Now, though, Sanji was finishing the dishes left behind from four meals- Sanji was including the party's food as a separate meal. Sanji wasn't cleaning because the kitchen was disgusting in its current state so much as something to get rid of his nervous energy. An outsider would never have been able to tell Sanji was nervous, but he knew Zoro would. Sanji hoped that by washing the dishes as fastidiously as he was, he could reduce the amount his hands were trembling. He still had no idea what he was going to say to the swordsman.

_I better figure it out soon_, Sanji thought as he heard the familiar footsteps outside of the galley. Sanji fought the urge to watch the swordsman enter. He was trying to appear natural and collected. If Zoro found out how many cigarettes Sanji had been through in the past half-hour, he would realize just how anxious the cook was. Sanji didn't want to appear weak, even though he was about to admit to the other man that he had been a pathetic son of a bitch for the past week and a half.

Zoro entered the galley and came to sit down on one of the bar stools. Sanji turned the faucet off. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sake?" Zoro said, his voice a low hum. Sanji thought the swordsman sounded content. He hurried to grab a bottle and two choko. He poured the sake for them both and leaned across the counter to hand one to Zoro. The swordsman swallowed the sake in one gulp, then held out his cup for more. Sanji poured it.

"So," Sanji said. Zoro swallowed, held out his cup.

"So," Zoro replied. Both men seemed lost on how to start the conversation. Zoro drained his third cup of sake. "So. You said you thought about things."

"Yeah." Sanji had finished his sake and was pouring more. He downed it hastily, trying to focus his gaze on the bottle of sake rather than the man sitting across the counter from him. Zoro moved restlessly on his barstool.

"And?"

"And-" Sanji paused for another swig of sake. He was still staring at the bottle, because he didn't want Zoro to see the confusion in his eyes. It wasn't that Sanji didn't know what he wanted to say, just none of the words running through his head seemed adequate.

"_And?_" Zoro said, his tone harsher. Sanji gulped back his worry. He took a deep breath.

"And I realized you were right," he let out. "Last night- after you said all those things to me- I realized that it was all true. That I was a pathetic fuck-up and a prick and completely insensitive and the worst nakama that you could ever have."

Sanji reached out and grabbed the bottle by its neck. He twirled it slowly between his fingers, using it as a focus for his thoughts. They slowly gathered together, and Sanji was able to iterate them. "I did give up. I had stopped trying to fix this and was blaming you for nothing you did. Fuck, Zoro, I can't believe how well you've taken everything."

"I haven't taken this well," Zoro said. Sanji hadn't been prepared for him to speak; he had expected Zoro to let Sanji continue his explanation before saying anything. Either because he would have been too angry or frustrated to even speak to Sanji until Sanji had finally apologized or because he was a relatively patient and could wait for Sanji to finish.

"I'm sure, but Zoro you have still been able to walk in here every meal. I don't understand how you managed to do that. I don't think I could do that."

"Alcohol tends to numb things pretty well. And I had some help," Zoro said. That surprised Sanji, and he brought his attention to Zoro. Zoro's gaze was fixed on an inconspicuous spot on the counter. Sanji had to fight the urge to grab a cloth and try to scrub that off immediately. But then Zoro continued speaking, and Sanji found himself caught on Zoro's words. "The first day after you told me no, I had drowned myself in booze and was searching through Chopper's things for some kind of sedative when Robin walked in. I had no good excuse, and I told her everything right then. She's been around me non stop since then."

"That explains the note," Sanji muttered under his breath. He had hoped Zoro wouldn't hear him.

"What note?"

"Oh, she saved a pack of cigarettes for me and left a message on a note for me."

"She did _what_?" Zoro voice rose slightly in- what Sanji assumed was- exasperation. "I told her not to do anything stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," Sanji said. "That note was probably the smartest thing anyone could have done."

"Why? What did it say?"

Sanji wasn't sure if he should tell Zoro, but he figured it was the most direct way to get to the point he hoped to make during this conversation. "It said, 'I hope you really want this.'"

"Oh," Zoro looked up and met Sanji's gaze. His voice was quiet and hesitant. Sanji held his breath, desperately waiting for whatever Zoro would say. He couldn't handle another horribly awkward moment of monosyllabic conversation. "Did you figure out if you do or not?"

"Yeah," Sanji said, breaking away from Zoro's stare. "I don't want this. And by this, I mean the tension and animosity between us. I don't want you to hate me for what I said, because I don't think I could handle that. Zoro, I don't want this guilt to keep ripping me apart. I'm sorry I was an idiot and that I didn't realize any other this sooner. I don't want to run away any more."

"Sanji." Sanji turned back to Zoro. "I can tell you're sorry, and I know you feel bad. But goddammit, you don't know how I've felt this past week. I don't tell people how I feel about shit usually, because I learned a long while ago that people suck. But after that night- Sanji- I. Ah fuck it."

Zoro gestured wildly as he gave up trying to explain whatever he had been trying to say. Sanji watched the swordsman curiously. It was somewhat comical, and Sanji almost smiled except he didn't think that would be an appropriate reaction. Zoro must have noticed the change in Sanji's attitude, because he glared at Sanji. Not menacingly so, but in a more frustrated, why-the-fuck-are-you-smiling kind of way.

Then Zoro's eyes softened. "I thought I'd be able to trust you. We're so similar sometimes, and I thought you'd understand- even if you didn't feel the same. Anything would have been better than what you did. It was-"

Sanji had to turn his eyes away in shame. It tore through him. "I know. When I said it, I just wasn't thinking clearly. I was scared. Lame reason, and don't ask for a better one because I don't have one and that's the truth."

"Why were you scared? Scared of me?" Zoro said. "Sanji, I wouldn't rape you or come on to you or whatever. You told me no, and I know what that means."

"No, I wasn't scared of that. Not really. I don't know. I don't know what I was scared of. It doesn't make any sense," Sanji said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, hoping the nicotine might help his fingers stop shaking. "I think I was scared of facing this and accepting what you told me, because it was something new. Scared that it was true, because- because it seems too good to be true."

He looked back up at Zoro. "And, well, Zoro, the truth is that this whole thing has made me realize that I'm lonely and terrified of living my life out as a sad, desperate son of a bitch. And I was scared of admitting that out loud."

Sanji stopped speaking there. He hoped Zoro would pick up where he was going with this, because it was not going to be easy to bluntly say what else he wanted to. Maybe Zoro would fill in the blanks, and Sanji could just nod and confirm Zoro's guesses.

"And?" Zoro asked. It wasn't going to be that easy. "I take it Robin's note also helped you realize what you do want?"

Sanji nodded. Zoro gave him a look that clearly said: 'hurry up and tell me what the fuck it is before I grow so impatient with you I get up and leave'. "_And_ I don't want to be alone anymore. I want somebody to help me with that. I want to be held and fall asleep in someone's arms." Sanji took a deep breath. "Your arms, Zoro."

Zoro stared into Sanji's eyes for a moment, then sighed. He ran his fingers through hair. "How do I know you're not just fucking with me, and you don't want a distraction? Didn't you say before was just a distraction?"

"Yeah. That's all it was," Sanji said. "And I thought that's all it would ever be."

"You're being real convincing."

"Shut up, marimo," Sanji snapped. This was slowly worsening, and he wanted to bring it back to the present and not to Sanji's past mistakes. "Yeah, it was a distraction, but I don't want anymore of those. I want a fucking relationship. And not just with anyone. With you, Zoro."

"With a faggot," Zoro said. The menace was back in his voice.

"Yes, if that's how you want to see it, but that doesn't matter because I just want something between us. I wasn't going to tell you yet. I was going to wait until I had apologized for everything and you had forgiven me for the shit I did. Dinner tonight was especially for you, because I wanted you to slowly understand. But I even fucked up with that plan."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Sanji inhaled on the end of his cigarette while he waited for Zoro to say something.

"Thank you. For dinner, I mean. It was…perfect. How did you know I would like it?"

"Lucky guess," Sanji said, smiling. Zoro had liked the sushi, even though he was telling him four hours later than it had been served. "I'm sorry for kissing you earlier. I probably shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?"

Sanji shrugged, not really sure of a good answer to that. "It just- I don't know. I probably should have waited to tell you about all of this."

"Sanji," Zoro said. His words were soft as though he were breathing them out rather than speaking them. "You say you want me, but what does that mean?"

"Honestly, Zoro, I don't know. There's this- pain, I guess- in my chest and I don't know what to name it. I may never know. I hope that doesn't bother you, but I can't do anything about it. I don't know how," Sanji said. His chest tightened. "Don't ask me about it, please. Just understand that I want you."

"Okay, I won't. Will it cause a problem for us?" Zoro said.

Sanji searched his eyes, looking for some answer in them. "Us?"

"Yeah. Us," Zoro said it as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "You wanted a relationship, didn't you?"

"You're giving me another chance?" His head was light, and butterflies soared through his stomach. Zoro nodded. "I don't know. I mean, we might fight and argue about it. I guess it could be, but I promise to try and not let it be one."

"Then I'll try and not make a big deal out of it," Zoro said. He didn't say anything after that, just stared at Sanji, a look in his eyes that Sanji couldn't read. He could see acceptance, but what the other thing was he didn't know. "When- if- you find out, will you tell me?"

"Yeah, of course," Sanji said. He watched Zoro, trying to determine what else there was to say. "You know, Zoro?"

"Hnh?"

"We don't really even like each other that much. We're still going to fight, and we probably won't get along," Sanji said, knowing that this probably wasn't the smartest thing to say. It needed to be said, though. "And I don't know how I feel about the whole sex thing, because I'm not gay. Not that I don't want it, because it was amazing. Just- can we take things slow? Is that okay?"

Sanji saw a flash of anger behind those eyes, but it quickly vanished. Zoro sighed. "Yeah. I guess that's probably a good idea." Sanji felt a pang of guilt as he thought about how hard that might be for Zoro after he had waited so long. "Considering how much it hurt you last time. A pansy like you must need time to recover."

He laughed, and Sanji tried to scowl, but a laugh broke through. Sanji didn't have a good comeback to that and decided it was better to let it slide. He smiled widely at Zoro, complacence beginning to cover the worry that had flooded him for the past week and a half. Sanji hoped Zoro felt the same way.

But that smile faded from Zoro's eyes, and it was replaced by tears.

"Zoro?" Sanji's heart fell, pain running through his body at the sight. Sanji had thought that everything was worked out, and things between them were good now. But- "Zoro, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything. This with you, now, it all seems too perfect, and I don't know if you're lying to me," Zoro said. A shudder ran through his body. "And even if you aren't, I don't know if you really mean any of this. If you're just telling me this now and tomorrow or the next day you'll change your mind. I don't know if you are just going to use me until Nami or Robin or some other woman comes along and you immediately switch to her, because you're not gay."

"I won't. Zoro." Sanji reached a hand across the counter and placed it atop one of Zoro's. "I want you, only you, because you- I don't know how to describe it. But I do mean what I say, and I do want you to hold me, and I don't want it to be anyone else."

"You promise?" Zoro's hand tensed beneath Sanji's grip as though he were waiting for Sanji to answer. Sanji turned Zoro's hand over and laced his fingers in with Zoro's.

"I promise."

The men stayed like that, silent. Sanji listened to the sound of Zoro breath, rhythmic and smooth, as though each breath was practiced and Zoro had created such evenness after years of hard work. It was hypnotic, and Sanji wished he could emulate that same pace Zoro had. He closed his eyes, letting the moment wash over him.

The moment passed when Zoro shifted on his seat, the cushion squeaking beneath him. Sanji opened his eyes.

"Do you think it will be worth it?" He asked suddenly. Zoro shot him a curious sort of look. "I mean all the fighting and questioning. The worry and constant wondering if things should be different. If I should be a better person to you, or that I'm not good enough because I can't tell you how I feel?"

Zoro brought Sanji's hand up to his lips, pressing them into the soft flesh of Sanji's palm. "Yeah, I think so."

"Me too," Sanji said, relishing in that light touch. Zoro didn't let go of Sanji's hand, and Sanji let the swordsman keep it by his face. He stretched out a finger to brush along Zoro's lips and jaw, tracing little lines on his face. "I should probably finish the dishes. And then get to my watch."

"Yeah. Probably." Neither made any movement away. "Do you want some help?"

"Nah. I got it."

"Oh, okay," Zoro said. "Do you mind if I sit in here?"

Sanji leaned across the counter to kiss Zoro briefly. The swordsman reached up and put his hands in Sanji's hair. Sanji leaned into the kiss, but it was hard to maintain his position over the counter as it's hard edge dug into his stomach. He pulled away and whispered into Zoro's mouth. "I'd love that."

He slowly, reluctantly forced himself to step back and return to the counter, thinking about how hard it had been to pull away from Zoro's touch. The taste and smell he could sense when near him was intoxicating. Even if he was reluctant about the sex, it would be hard to keep away from it when his whole being was lusting for more of him.

Sanji turned the faucet on and reached for the nearest dish. He began washing it. "Hey Zoro? Were you the one that took me below deck to my hammock this morning?"

"Yeah. Are you mad?"

Sanji did a mental told you so. "No. Thanks."

"Welcome."

Sanji continued with the dishes. The silence poured over him, content now. No sign of the awkwardness that had filled him every other time there had been quiet. He thought back to something an elderly couple at Baratie had told him once. They had sat through their dinner in complete silence, and when he asked them why, the woman turned to him and said, 'You can tell when two people are truly in love when they can be in complete silence and are completely comfortable with each other.'

He wasn't in love with Zoro, and if he was he wouldn't know how to express it, but the tranquility that passed through him caused him to wonder if she were right. He was completely comfortable with this, here and now. Could that mean he-

There was a soft noise behind him, and Sanji turned around to see Zoro lying with his head on the counter. He was snoring. Sanji chuckled, finished washing his last dish, and turned the water off. He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. Placing it beside Zoro, he leaned over and gently kissed Zoro on the forehead. Sanji shuffled out of the galley and out into the starry night.

_Dear Zoro,_

_Come find me when you wake up. I changed my mind about taking it slowly. Don't take too long, because there won't be time if you wait until morning._

_Love?_

_Sanji_

--

le fin


	12. Epilogue

It must have been luck that gave them this moment alone. It must have been luck that Robin quietly deterred Nami and Usopp from staying the ship, insisting that they accompany her and Chopper to the town's museum. It must have been luck that Robin knew exactly what to say to make everyone except Sanji and Zoro leave the ship on an expedition that would not have interested anyone except the archaeologist. Sanji was pretty sure that she had blackmailed a good majority of them, or had gotten Chopper to insist on regular prostate exams. It had to be luck that the Thousand Sunny had landed just days after Sanji had gathered enough courage and self-confidence to take the final step with Zoro.

Well, that's what Sanji hoped was the situation rather than Robin's astute observations. He'd hate to pollute a lady's thoughts with his and Zoro's potential actions. Potential, of course, for nothing thus far had actually happened. That was what Sanji had wanted, had specifically stated and asked for time to work things out. It had been a little over a month. The first few weeks had been full of awkward moments. Sanji, who had never had a real, substantial relationship, was unsure of how things were supposed to work. In his series of one-night stands, Sanji had always done the pursuing. He had been the one initiating and creating the momentum that ultimately led to the bedroom. Yet, Sanji had been at a loss with what to do with Zoro. It felt weird to pursue Zoro, especially when Sanji was uncomfortable with the thought of him and Zoro and a bed.

Or that was at least how he'd felt for a while. Now, though, after a month of Zoro and his awkward, fumbling moments that always seemed to end in disappointment, Sanji was no longer uncomfortable with the topic. Anxious, still, but not uncomfortable. He had come to terms with the fact that he was not only emotionally attached to Zoro- he knew for certain now that he was- but also physically attracted. The anxiety he felt had more to do with his body's hunger rather than nerves about the act.

These thoughts swirled through his brain as Sanji leaned against the railing. Exhaling a stream of smoke, he watched it swirl up and through the breeze in the direction of the crow's nest. He kept watching the smoke rise up, eyes unable to leave the tumultuous substance. He could feel it pulling him up, directing him. Making the decision Sanji had spent the day struggling with. His indecisiveness gone with the wind, Sanji tossed his cigarette behind him and headed for the crow's nest.

As he trudged up the infinite stairs, Sanji let composure slide across his features. Even in this, he wasn't going to let Zoro make him weak. He steeled himself and pushed the door open. Inside, a shirtless Zoro was counting to some ridiculously high number as he lifted weights above his head. He stopped mid-lift as Sanji entered.

"Marimo." His voice sounded shakier than he'd meant it to. Sanji breathe deeply before he said what needed to be said. Taking the most direct route, he said, "Let's fuck."

Confusion crossed the swordsman's face, and Sanji wondered if he was going to have to be more explicit. It was quickly replaced by a softer expression Sanji had learned meant concern. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. I even brought this," Sanji said, holding up a bottle of oil that he assumed would make the best lubricant. He watched as Zoro set down his weights while still keeping the concerned look. The swordsman opened his mouth, but Sanji cut him off. "If you don't want to, that's fine. I can just-"

He was cut off abruptly as Zoro surged forward, pressing his lips against Sanji's. Sanji kissed him back. Zoro pushed him backward until Sanji was flush against the door with Zoro pinning him. Sanji brought his hands up to run through Zoro's short, thick hair, pulling on it ever so slightly. Zoro hissed slightly, but against Sanji's leg, he could feel the swordsman getting hard. As he vaguely remembered from the one time, Zoro liked it rough.

Zoro pulled away from Sanji's mouth to kiss down his cheek and jaw before making his way to Sanji's sharp collarbone. He nipped at the skin above the bone, causing Sanji to jump at the sensation. He could feel Zoro grinning against his skin and was about to make some snide comment when Zoro, having moved up from collar to neck, bit heavily on the juncture of neck and shoulder. Sanji's legs seemed to turn to jelly, and had it not been for Zoro's strong hold, he might have fallen. He felt himself getting hard as Zoro sunk his teeth into the same spot.

Sanji felt as though he was helpless. He felt like putty in Zoro's arms. The swordsman pulled at Sanji's shirt, tugging it over Sanji's head. Zoro ran his hands down Sanji's chest and across his back. The calloused skin ghosted over Sanji's nipples, and Sanji gasped at the sensation. He saw Zoro grin. Angry at his loss of control, Sanji reached for Zoro's face. He pulled him up and roughly kissed him. The smug swordsman was still grinning into the kiss. Sanji wanted it gone.

He pulled away from the green-haired man, moving his lips over to Zoro's pierced ear. Sanji ran his tongue in between the three gold bars and gently bit into the other man's soft flesh. Zoro let out a soft groan when Sanji nudged at the skin just behind the ear. The cook, smirking, bit gently on that bit of skin, causing Zoro to release a louder moan.

Zoro's rough hands pawed at Sanji's chest, running once more over the cook's pert nipples. The fingers of one hand grabbed and twisted one nub. Sanji moaned loudly. He pulled away from Zoro's ear and threw his head back. Zoro was still smirking, but at this point Sanji wasn't sure he cared anymore. Instead he relished in the way Zoro pulled and rubbed at his nipples, the way Zoro brought his mouth to the other and bit it.

Sanji could only watch through half-lidded eyes as Zoro made his way down Sanji's chest, fingers fiddling with the button of Sanji's pants. His pants and boxers were pulled down and Sanji stepped out of them, revealing Sanji's hard member, dripping with pre-cum. Helpless, that's what Sanji was, especially when Zoro sank to his knees to wrap his lips around Sanji. All Sanji could do was watch as Zoro sucked his way along Sanji's cock. He could feel Zoro's tongue scraping along the bottom and Zoro's hand squeezing gently at the base. Searching for a handhold, he fisted his fingers in Zoro's hair. It took immeasurable strength not to buck his hips forward and choke Zoro. He held himself steady and just watched as he went in and out of Zoro's wet mouth. The swordsman looked up, eyes meeting Sanji's. Sanji froze, stopped breathing, stopped everything, for under that intense gaze he was powerless.

Then all breath rushed back into his lungs, as he felt something wet pressing against his entrance. He forced himself to relax as Zoro's finger pushed past the muscle and as a second finger joined. Instead he focused on what Zoro was doing with his mouth. A third finger, but by this point Sanji was close-eyed, panting and struggling to stay on his feet so he didn't notice the unsettling feeling. What he did noticed was that Zoro's fingers touched that bundle of nerves inside him, and Sanji felt like everything was about to give way.

It didn't, though, and Sanji opened his eyes to see a fully naked Zoro coating his dick with oil. That anxious hunger filled Sanji once more, and before he knew what he was doing, he said, "Jesus fucking Christ. Could you be any fucking slower?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow, but stepped closer to Sanji anyway. He pressed his lips against Sanji's softly, then placed his hands on Sanji's hips, lifting the blonde up. Quickly figuring out how this was going to work, wrapped his legs around Zoro's back. The slick tip of Zoro's hard member brushed against him, gently pressing in. It pushed past the rings of muscle to bury deep inside Sanji. A shaking Zoro held Sanji steady, waiting for the cook to adjust. It was a quick adjustment; Sanji wasn't that weak.

Sanji nodded. Zoro grunted and hefted Sanji higher. He pulled out slightly, then thrust. He focused on the sensation of Zoro, heavy inside him, rubbing up and down in all the right ways. Sanji found his breath coming in pants. Leaning forward he sought out a final kiss. Climax was beginning to overtake him. He found Zoro's lips in a stuttering, hurried mesh. Inside him, Zoro hit that spot and Sanji's muscles tensed as orgasm rushed through in blinding flash. He dimly registered that he bit down on Zoro's lip, the sweat covering both their bodies, and the crude sound of flesh on flesh as Zoro pounded inside him, coming in a wave of blind pleasure. Sanji's world at that moment consisted of overwhelming brightness that suddenly faded into the post-orgasm bliss.

Both swordsman and cook fell to the floor, coming together to lie in a heap at the base of the doorway. Sanji rolled onto his back and breathed deeply of the heated, sweat-filled air. Next to him, Zoro was doing much the same. After a moment to collect himself, Sanji searched for his pants. Finding them, he retrieved a cigarette and his lighter. With a fresh smoke on his lips, Sanji inhaled contentedly.

"Oi, Sanji," Zoro murmured, voice breathless and husky. Sanji looked over wearily. Zoro pulled the cigarette from Sanji's lips before replacing it with a gentle, lazy kiss. He pulled away smiling. Sanji watched shocked as the Zoro placed the cigarette between his lips. Zoro passed it back after he took a drag. "I think you're a bad influence on me."

"Am not. Just because you can't handle yourself around me, doesn't make it my fault. In fact, you should be thanking me for even spending as much time around you as I do to have any sort of influence." Sanji chuckled. He probably was a bad influence; after all, he had made Zoro stop in the middle of training and the swordsman was now smoking. What would happen next? Hopefully it would be that Zoro might gain some style. A suit, maybe.

"Thanks." Sanji looked over. Zoro was staring at him, dark eyes still holding the same intense gaze they'd held earlier. He reached out, wrapping an arm around Sanji's thin waist. Sanji struggled to find a comfortable position that let him smoke. Ultimately he had his back to Zoro's stomach with the swordsman's arm draped across them both.

Sanji pulled the cigarette away from his lips for a moment, resting that hand on top of Zoro's. The other man had most likely fallen asleep, so perhaps he wouldn't see this moment of sentimentality. He looked at their two hands and how they seemed to match, and suddenly this incredible feeling of rightness tightened around Sanji. Tears pricked at his eyes. Sanji forced them back.

His gaze settled back on his smoke, and he slowly brought it back up to his mouth. Yet, he noticed a patch of red that had not been there initially. Sanji growled. He hated to waste a cigarette.

"Zoro, did you do this?" He held it up, hoping Zoro might wake up for this one moment. Sanji felt Zoro stir behind him.

"Eh. Probably. You did bite my lip pretty hard."

Sanji had no snarky comment for that. It had been Sanji's fault, and it was just the butt that had the blood on it. No big deal. Really, it was rather darkly poetic, when Sanji thought about it. Again, that sense of rightness.


End file.
